Conflict of Interest
by Hammerin
Summary: con·flict of in·ter·est: a situation in which the concerns or aims of two different parties are incompatible - When the smart and sensible choice doesn't reciprocate, and the mysterious and risky decision wants more than she can give, Mercedes realizes why she was warned about creating a conflict of interest, and that her heart isn't the only thing on the line.
1. Chapter 1

"Generally, our biggest rule is going to be keeping you safe at all times. You're here to gain experience, and we want to make sure that you're learning the ropes and how the company works, but we want to make sure that's done in the safest atmosphere possible."

"I understand,' Mercedes nodded. "The most important point, for me, is to be learning in a realistic atmosphere. I know there's machinery around here, and I'm fine with that. I won't be working next to them or with them or anything, so it's okay."

Will gave Mercedes a small smile, inwardly grimacing at her naiveté. "I _do_ mean that in terms of physical safety, but I also want you to be sure that I, as well as the other guys in the office, will be doing the best of our ability to keep you under wraps. You're going to be working with over twenty young men constantly, and these guys have no ties to Lima, Ohio. Some players are only here for a practice before we send them packing, and we want you to be safe when it comes to them. For some of those boys on the team, I've heard em' talk, girls are just numbers to them. I, firstly, want to be sure that you're never overwhelmed or tempted to be anything more than professional with the players."

Mercedes furrowed her eyebrows and bit her tongue. William Schuester was the president and founder of the Lima Legends, a semi-professional hockey team. The team had drawn some attention in the prior year by bringing home a championship title, and the once meager attendance rates skyrocketed to over three thousand fans per game. This sudden burst of fame in Lima drew the attention of all types; people who didn't know the first thing about hockey began to attend the games, and even Mercedes Jones, someone who had never been a fan of sports, made an appearance with a group of friend. Mercedes was a recent graduate of Ohio State University, where she had gotten her bachelor's degree in journalism. The Lima Legends were a relatively new team in the league, and had only managed to hire the bare necessity during their first few seasons. Until their big win, revenue had been low, and the team couldn't afford to enhance their crew. Afterwards, the joint decision was to keep the staff limited in order to build chemistry and put all monies forth to bettering the hockey team itself. They'd decided that it was time for a secretary, and whilst making the post on their poorly designed website, the front office, too, decided they were looking for a web page designer.

Mercedes had only been looking for an internship, but in seeing that the Legends were hiring, she figured it was worth a shot. Luckily for her, William Schuester was delighted that the team could get two-in-one, and called Mercedes soon after getting her email of interest. The application process had been done online, and the interview over the phone. He called her in finally during November, impressed by her maturity for only a twenty-two-year-old, William made the decision to take Mercedes on. His only problem was the fact that she was a woman, and she would be the only woman the entire team employed.

"You won't have to worry about that, Will. I can keep business and pleasure separate."

Will laughed lightly, and reached across the table to give Mercedes a handshake. "I would like to personally welcome you to the Lima Legends team. About the players, it's strictly about avoiding a conflict of interest. I didn't mean to suggest that you would do anything unprofessional, but I didn't want to run the risk of you saying you were not warned, say something did occur."

As Will began to stand, Mercedes nodded along, releasing from the handshake. "I completely understand."

The man made his way out from behind his desk and headed over to his door, where he allowed Mercedes to exit out first. The office was generally small; a three-roomed business space with a lobby located inside of the arena where the team played their games. The rooms belonged to the president, Will, the marketing and sales director, and the general manager. The latter whom Mercedes had failed to meet yet; upon arrival, Will had shown Mercedes where her office space would be: a giant desk in the center of the quaint lobby that was littered with sticky notes and forms.

 _"We all kind of use this area,' he warned. "We've been trying to survive these past four years without a secretary, I haven't seen the bottom of this desk in awhile."_

The office space was small and cluttered with paper and beer cans, but Mercedes knew that within a week's time she would add the perfect amount of feminine touch. Walking through the narrow hallway and into the lobby, Mercedes and Will stood together again, taking the atmosphere in.

"You'll see we have a bit of a mess."

"It's fine,' Mercedes said, moving to sit in the rolling-chair behind her new desk. "Hopefully you won't mind if I put a bit of glam on it, this place could look new in a week?"

He flashed her a thumbs-up, "Whatever you want to do, Mercedes. - I know you haven't met Tyler or Sebastian yet. Tyler is, from what I know, downstairs with the coach right now, discussing some things for our game Friday night. You aren't going to interact with him as much as you are with Sebastian, though. With Sebastian, you're basically going to be shadowing him, you're going to know him better than Tyler and I combined."

"Okay,' Mercedes replied with a smile.

As if on cue, the office door closest to Mercedes flung open and a tall, dark-haired man with a light beard walked out. His shoes were off, his belt was unbuckled, and one of his hands was shoved into his pocket.

"I don't know why we chose Breadstix as a partner, we generate almost no revenue from that company, yet they beg for free tickets almost every game. I, _then_ , drop the tickets off at will call, and they are still there at the end of the night, each time. If they are having a competition on how to fuck the Lima Legends over, they are winning, there is no competition." The young man ranted, at first into space for anyone in the office to hear, and then to Will, whom he had first laid eyes on. When Will hesitated to reply, the man raised his eyebrows in question.

"What?" He asked, before scanning the dimly lit office. He ultimately noticed Mercedes, who sat meekly behind the tall desk and offered a tiny wave. Bowing his head towards her, he turned around and walked back into his office.

Mercedes chuckled when the door shut and looked at Will with wide eyes. "Is that Tyler or Sebastian?"

"That is Sebastian. He's a character."

Mercedes nodded, "I can tell. He's comfortable here."

Will nodded, "This is a business setting, so I recommend business casual. There are a few days when I know that no fans or corporate sponsors are coming in, and we can lessen up on the dress code. You'll see Tyler and Sebastian walk in with pajama pants and bed-hair multiple times."

"Is everyone here really close?"

Will nodded, "I would say so. Tyler has been with me since before we even started the team, we used to play hockey together back in college. Our guys downstairs: maintenance, coach, trainers, our players, we maintain a good relationship with them as well, you'll see them walk in through those doors quite often,' Will pointed towards the office's entryway that led out to a pavilion overlooking the ice. "Most of those guys, asides from the players, have been with us from the start. Sebastian came on during our second year as an intern, he's a quick learner, he was perfect for the job, so he knows the route."

"How old is he again?" Mercedes asked, not realizing Sebastian had been so young.

"I want to say that he's twenty-four, but you'd have to ask him."

Everyone in the office seemed young, Will didn't look a day over forty, and since he'd mentioned college, Mercedes made the connection that Tyler was more than likely the same age. She had noticed a ring on Will's finger the moment she sat down in his office, as well as a picture of a baby on his desk. Sebastian looked too young to be married, but one could never be sure. _Did the 'conflict of interest policy' extend to coworkers as well?_

Sebastian's door opened once more, and he walked out in a coat of titivation. His hair was dark, almost black, and his beard looked only freshly grown. Mercedes remembered a fad known as "No Shave November" that was popular during college, and wondered if Sebastian had found himself a participant.

He was tall, over six feet, and thin. His belt was buckled this time and his shoes were on. He had a narrow face and light eyes, he looked like he was serious about business, but could also have a good laugh. Mercedes credited most of the empty beer cans to him. He wore a tight black button-up with khaki pants, Mercedes could see keys in his pockets, but they were not the only thing bulging from the area.

He offered Mercedes a denigrating smile and leaned over the desk to shake her hand. "Sebastian Smythe."

"Mercedes Jones." She affirmed, her hand going limp in his tight grip. His green eyes reflected from the small light let in by the window, and for a second, she thought she saw a shimmer of warmth.

"I was just telling Mercedes about you, Sebastian. She's a graduate of Ohio State, as well."

"Oh, you went to Ohio State?"

Mercedes's cheeks flushed, "I did. Did you- wait, you just told me you did,' she laughed awkwardly. Sebastian smiled down on her, and Mercedes could not help but to feel small.

"What'd you go for?" He asked.

"Journalism, what about you?"

"Sports advertising and business administration." Sebastian replied, looking Mercedes over. "Why are you working for a minor league hockey team when you just graduated with your degree in journalism, Mercedes? If you don't mind me asking."

Will watched the encounter silently, saying nothing.

"I enjoy the Legends, I think they gave Lima a lot of good attention. I saw the opportunity, I've got some experience with web design, I can definitely help with the writing aspects, at least. Why not?"

Sebastian nodded again, seemingly in discomfort. "Yeah…,' pointing at a sticky note on the computer, he said, "That's the password, there. The username is ' _limalegends_ ', no space. I'm about to take lunch, but when I get back, I can show you the ropes and hope you latch on. I don't want to sound rude, but we hired you to make our jobs a little easier. I'm hoping you're a quick learner, and I'm not having to take too much time out of my schedule to help you out. I don't want to seem like a douche bag, but I'm the most honest one in this office, and I'm going to tell you how it is. This is a fast-paced job, there is a lot cursing, and lot of arguing, and not a lot of apologies. You can't decide that someone said something that hurt your feelings, and let that show up in your work. You're going to be doing a lot of the client/fan interaction, and that's a place where we have to have minimal screw-ups. This isn't just a part-time job or an internship, you're a part of the team now, and I'm hoping you pull your own weight. I can be your best friend or I can be your worst enemy, and whether you like me or not is not a factor, because I get paid regardless. I know Will probably told you I'm going to be in charge of you, because he tried to tell me that bullshit as well, but I'm not here to baby-sit. I'm going to help you these first couple weeks, but after that you're going to have to just start making key decisions, maybe do some shit they taught you in journalism class? _I don't know._ I don't want you to not like me, but I want you to know what I expect as your superior."

Mercedes was taken back by the man's abrasiveness, and turned her gaze to Will momentarily, who had, surprisingly, been more enthralled with his phone than Sebastian's tirade.

Hesitating momentarily, she turned the computer on, and typed in the username and password. "Don't worry,' Mercedes said sweetly. "Enjoy your lunch."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Make sure to review, favorite, and follow. Always up for suggestions and willing to include things that you'd like to see! And I won't relent, Sam will be making an appearance next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

Mercedes's first week with the Lima Legends was difficult. She did her very best to remain independent and avoid asking Sebastian any questions. When she did have questions, Sebastian always helped her with a heavy heart and answered in aggravation. He had a perpetual habit of rolling up his sleeves and leaning over her when he assisted, and though Mercedes would try to roll her chair out of his way when he did come near, she'd end up trapped between his giant body and the wall behind her. He always smelled good, and more than a few times had she found herself lost in his profile rather than studying what he was attempting to teach her. Pride kept her from asking again, and occasionally Mercedes simply took to searching Google for the answer she was looking for. Her job, so far, consisted of updating the team's website and clearing the desk. Clearing the desk included setting up meetings, updating player statistics, and plenty of filing. Most of the documents could easily be tossed in the trash can, but some of them involved coding that required higher knowledge to understand. When Sebastian had instructed Mercedes on her first day, he made it very evident that her job was beneath him, and that he could not be bothered to waste much time providing her information that he'd known for three years. It seemed like primary knowledge to him, but to anyone else it was Greek.

The first game she was present to work at was on a Saturday night, and employees didn't have to arrive until noon for set-up. Mercedes had overheard Sebastian, Tyler, and Will discussing their plans for Friday night the afternoon before, but decided against including herself in the conversation. Will spent a lot of time in his office with the door shut, and he got plenty of visitors at all other times. Mascots, team players, maintenance, corporate sponsors, you name it. Everyone who was affiliated with the Lima Legends had a meeting set up with William Schuester. Tyler, whose name was Tyler Rent, spent most of his time actually interacting with the players. It was rare for Mercedes to see him in the office, instead he worked mostly alongside the coach.

Will was married to a young woman named Emma, and Tyler was in a long-term relationship and had two children with the woman. Tyler had another job, which he mentioned often, but never named. Sebastian, from what Mercedes gathered, was single and playing-the-field. Tyler and Will jokingly attempted to set up Sebastian with a lot of the girls who danced for the Lima Legends's promotion/dance team. Mercedes had seen some of the girls during practice, and she could label a few of them as attractive. A majority of the girls were overweight and fit into their tight uniforms very snugly, but some were tall and fit. Sebastian always shrugged off the suggestions, saying that he was too busy for a relationship or that he wasn't interested in dating someone who worked for him.

That Friday, Mercedes overheard Sebastian mentioning a party that he might stop at, an anything-but-clothes party. He wryly added that he'd probably be the only one in clothes, because he didn't have a crafty bone in his body. Mercedes found herself lost in thought relating to what she would wear if she was invited to an anything-but-clothes party when Sebastian finally exited Will's office to leave for the day.

"Are you thinking of a new way to get all this paperwork off your desk?"

"What?- What? No, I was just…,' Mercedes looked down at what she had been doing: logging off the computer to leave for the afternoon. "I was just thinking, sorry. Are you heading out?"

"That is what I usually do around this time of the afternoon. We're coming in at noon tomorrow."

"Alright, awesome. That should give me time to blow off my hangover."

"Oh,' Sebastian laughed, dumbfounded. "Is that right?"

Mercedes shrugged in mystery, she liked making people think one thing, when in fact she meant another. It gave her the upper hand.

"I didn't take you for the type, Mercedes."

"You'd be surprised by what you don't know about me, Sebastian."

"I bet so,' he replied, rubbing his eye in finalized disinterest. "I'm out of here,' Sebastian yelled for the office to hear. "Goodnight, Mercedes."

"Goodnight, Sebastian."

The next day, Mercedes could tell without a doubt that Sebastian had enjoyed himself at the party. He didn't, however, seem to be enjoying himself at work. He arrived at one, instead of twelve, still clad in his bed clothes. A duffle-bag was attached to him, which presumably included his suit and tie for the game. He wore a tight, plain white tee, Lima Legends sweatpants, tennis shoes, and a gold chain. His hair, surprisingly, had been combed though, and laid slicked-back on his head. He hadn't shaved or trimmed his beard that morning, and he carried a tall mug of coffee in his hand when he stumbled loudly through the office's front door.

"You look like shit." Tyler said, catching a glimpse of Sebastian when he walked in. Tyler had, surprisingly, lingered in the office the entire day, and was by then, in the process of filling chuck-a-puck trays and labeling new pucks for the merchandise and raffle employees.

"Don't."

"Will isn't in his office right now, so you better go in there and fake like you're on a conference call."

Sebastian trudged over to his office without looking at Mercedes. He dropped his bag off, and returned to the lobby, dropping into a waiting chair.

"I'm thinking I should go back home and shower."

"I'm thinking,' Tyler began, penning 'G5T' into a bright green puck. "You should go back home, as well. Doesn't he look like shit, Mercedes?"

Mercedes looked over at Sebastian, and though attempting to keep a straight countenance, began to laugh. "You don't look terrible, I just think maybe you could look a bit more presentable."

Sebastian shrugged. "I just didn't want to show up at, like, four p.m. I slept through my alarm, and then when I did hear it, I hit snooze like eight times. I didn't even know snooze extended that long."

"It will keep going as long as you keep hitting it." Mercedes added.

"I know that now,' Sebastian said, bending his head between his legs. He took a sharp breath, and spoke in a muffled tone, "I have the worst migraine of this millennia. I will never drink again."

Mercedes looked at Sebastian in deflation, and rose to retrieve a cup. The office included a small water-tank, at which Mercedes filled the cup and brought it over to Sebastian, whom looked to be in the middle of a mental breakdown.

"Are you okay, Sebastian?"

"You look pretty bad, kid. You sure you didn't get drugged last night?" Tyler asked, leaning over Mercedes's shoulder to get a look.

Sebastian took the cup from Mercedes's hand, "Thanks,' he said before quickly downing the water and standing back up. "I would hope not, do you think getting drugged would be a valid reason for not coming to work?"

Tyler shrugged, "I don't sign payroll."

Sebastian laughed lightly, and made eye contact with Mercedes momentarily. Mistaking the glance for partiality, Mercedes was taken aback when Sebastian handed the cup back to her, limply, to throw away.

"What time are we doing soft-open tonight?"

Through her teeth, Mercedes replied, "Season ticket holders get in at five, doors open at six."

"Bullshit,' Sebastian said, walking around Mercedes. "You know Will tried to get us to open doors at four last game?,' he asked Tyler.

Tyler shook his head, putting the cap on his pen. He stacked the final crate of chuck-a-pucks into a cart, and began to pull them to the door. "No, I'm not up here."

"You should have heard it on the walkie-talkie."

"Speaking of walkie-talkies, make sure you get one for Mercedes tonight."

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "We only have the three on concourse, the rest are where you guys are at."

Tyler leaned against the door, the cart in his hands. He longed to exit the tight office space, but the conversation looked for ways to prolong itself. "Yeah, we don't have any on the ground. Mercedes, you might just have to do without tonight. Where is she at tonight, by the way?"

"Will-call." Mercedes interrupted, feeling as though she should remind the men that she was there, and capable of speaking for herself.

"You shouldn't need a walkie-talkie." Sebastian said, putting a hand on his still throbbing forehead.

"I don't know, we usually do have a few problems there. Sebastian, do you mind kind of lingering around that general area until puck-drop? I'll tell Will to hang around the entrance to help at doors and the information center until we begin. Will-call usually calms down by then, and by third period the ticket office is shut down completely."

Sebastian shrugged, he looked defeated, but unable to argue. "I don't care."

"Alright,' Tyler said, pushing the door to open. "Mercedes, are you staying after for our jersey auction tonight, by the way?"

"Didn't realize it was an option."

Sebastian laughed, "It's not. Will made that pretty clear yesterday."

Mercedes laughed as well. "Oh, yeah. I have to run credit cards with Sebastian afterwards."

"Yeah, she's going to help me out during, making sure I'm getting the prices correct and collecting the credit card numbers. It'll make the auction more efficient, we'll get out of here quicker."

"Wow, don't you two make quite the team?" Tyler asked coyly, smiling. Backing out of the office finally, he promised, "I will see you guys at the auction."

Sebastian sighed when the door shut, and looked over at Mercedes who had returned to her desk. He raised his eyebrows when he saw that all the papers had been cleared, and that for the first time in months, he could see the base of the desk.

"You've been busy." He noted.

Mercedes smiled, "You noticed."

Sebastian ran his finger's through his hair, and finally draped himself over the desk in fatigue. "I need to go home."

"If we aren't doing soft-open until six, you can come in then. I won't need help until then, and Tyler already told you that you aren't going to be on concourse tonight, at least for the beginning of the game… Unless you think Will is going to have a problem with it."

Sebastian raised his head lightly before nodding. "You're right, I'm going home. This is the worst hangover I've ever had. I'm going to tell you how will-call works before I go, just in case I don't show up until after six."

As Sebastian walked into Will's office to retrieve the will-call box, Mercedes voiced, "I'm not telling you to get fired."

He laughed, "Will is really… laidback. He'd rather me be here and be able to do the job rather than be here and smell like alcohol."

"I know what you mean."

Sebastian returned and dropped the box on the front desk. "Okay, so, this is how it works. You're going to be in the ticket office, which is connected to our back door.' He signaled to the area. "There's an arrow out front that is going to point people into your direction, don't worry about that. If people want you, they are going to find you.

"This box has a bunch of tickets, these are tickets for groups, sponsors, etcetera. Most of these tickets are free anyway, so if you don't see someone in here, don't be extra helpful. I'm going to be with you at the beginning of the game, so just talk with me. They're going to give you their name, let's say the name is 'Douglas Skyes'. Go to the S's, look for Skyes. You got it. Cup'o'tea. Once they get their ticket, thank them for coming, if they have any questions, answer them. If you don't have an answer, send them to me or Will. They still need to enter in the main doors, but your job is complete. "

"That sounds really easy actually." Mercedes said, taking the box full of tickets from Sebastian.

"It's very easy." Sebastian replied, returning to his office and picking up his bag. "I'm going to go back home and catch up on some sleep, I will see you in a few hours. If you see Will, just tell him you don't know where I am."

Mercedes gave Sebastian a thumbs-up as he walked out the back door. Will returned to the office around half an hour later to allow Mercedes time to take her lunch, but mentioned nothing about Sebastian. Instead of eating for lunch, Mercedes took a route home in order to change and get ready for the afternoon. This was her first opportunity seeing most of the players up close; some had come into the office, and she had seen others during practice. She never had the courage to go to the coach's bench during practice or sit in one of the closer seats, so her impression of the men, but more importantly their impression of her, was muddled.

Mercedes went simple, and pulled her coiled, natural hair into a tight princess-braid around her head, and wore an oversized navy blue flannel. She put on a pair of normal black leggings, and beige heels, making sure that the perfect amount of appropriate-cleavage showed, and did her best to put on a neat face of makeup. Opting out of wearing a 'Budweiser' lanyard with an attached ID-badge, she clipped the badge to the bottom of her shirt, and put a small bit of perfume on. She knew she wasn't supposed to be 'fraternizing' with any of the players, but it was still in her bones to impress. She was young, and she liked to flirt. She didn't get a lot of attention from guys, even though she totally deserved it.

When she got back to work, Will complimented her on her change of clothing.

"You look nice, Mercedes." He said hurriedly, collecting papers from the office's printer.

"Wow, thank you, Will." She replied, gathering her jacket from her chair and the will-call box. "I'm going to go ahead and take this over to the ticket office, is there anything you need me to do?"

"Did Sebastian already tell you what your job is going to be?"

"He did run it by me, yes."

"So,' Will looked out the corner of his eye. "You have seen him?"

Mercedes adverted her eyes, and scratched her head, "I did."

Will sucked his teeth, "I'm so…' he cut himself off. "He is really a piece of work."

"I think he had a rough night." Mercedes defended.

Will shrugged, "He has a rough night every weekend. I'm going to put these,' he signaled to the flyers in his hand, "on the merchandise table. Have you met our crew out there?"

"No,' Mercedes said, shifting her purse to her other arm.

"Oh, well, I'll introduce you." Mercedes sat her jacket and the box back down as Will lead led her out onto the concourse. A short distance from the office were a few extended tables covered in table cloth and different articles of merchandise. Mercedes figured that was where Sebastian had received his sweatpants. Behind the merchandise table was a wall separating the front entrance and the coliseum's seating, on the wall hung a giant Lima Legend's sign. At the end of the merchandise table was the raffle table, where people could go and buy different tickets for raffles or chuck-a-pucks. The main doors were across from the table, and anyone walking in would quickly be bombarded by employees attempting to make a sale. The promotion/dance team and the raffle/merchandise employees only worked on game days, and it was Mercedes's first opportunity to meet some of them.

Will motioned Mercedes over to a group of tall, thin girls. Their dark green and gray outfits signaled there spot on the promo team, the three in the group being probably the prettiest girls on the team. They stood around the entrance, holding flyers to pass to fans when the doors did open. The one closest to Mercedes smiled lightly and extended a hand.

"Where'd you find Sister Jones at, Will? I didn't think Reverend would hand her over."

Will touched Mercedes lightly on the back, "This is Santana, Mercedes. She's one of our oldest dancers. This is Marina, this is Rachel, and their captain is Holly. Holly is also in charge of audio, our sound bits and the soundtrack you hear during the game, you'll see her around the office a bit."

"Nice to meet you all." Mercedes replied after shaking all three girls' hands. Marina, like the others, was tall and thin. She had shoulder-length reddish-brown hair and a nose piercing.

"Nice to meet you too." Rachel and Marina said in unison as Will walked away.

"Are you an intern or the real deal?" Santana asked, shifting her weight from hip to hip.

"One hundred percent real deal." Mercedes replied, beginning to laugh with Santana.

"Awesome, I'm tired of introducing myself to interns just for them to leave the next week. The only intern who stayed was the one I wanted to leave."

"Who?" Mercedes asked curiously.

"That dork from Toledo, Sebastian. He thinks he's tough shit, he doesn't know I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent."

"No,' Rachel began. "Everyone knows you're from Lima Heights Adjacent, Santana."

"True… true." Santana whispered.

"Do you not like him?"

Santana shook her head, "No one likes him, the dancers don't like him, the volunteers don't like him.' She shrugged. "I know for a fact Tyler doesn't like him, I don't know about Will. I bet the players don't even know his name."

Mercedes nodded slowly, allowing Rachel, Santana, and Marina to go on. She said nothing, but quickly came to the realization that these were the girls who she could come to get all the gossip on the team. Mercedes disagreed when Santana mentioned Tyler not liking Sebastian, but she hadn't even remembered that Sebastian had started out as an intern until Santana had mentioned in. Mercedes was new to the team, and she didn't know much. It was clear that Santana, at least, had been their for a while. The girls all seemed generally open and well-receiving.

"Are you announcing or what? I know they aren't going to have you locked in the office all night."

"I'm doing will-call for first and second period. They haven't really told me what I'm going to be doing afterwards, so I might be able to watch the game. Are you going to the jersey auction later tonight?"

"We have to work there as well." Marina piped in.

"How many dancers are there?"

"We can usually pull in ten per game, but sometimes we come in with only four. At the beginning of the season we always have over twenty.' Santana shrugged, "We don't get paid, so people aren't motivated to stay."

"You don't get paid?"

"We live on a salary of compensation-tickets, Breadstix coupons, and spa certificates." Rachel said sarcastically.

"Do the merchandise and raffle sales employees get paid?" Mercedes asked.

Santana shrugged, "Mason and Madison are Will's niece and nephew, and I'm pretty sure they get paid under the table. They work raffles and chuck-a-pucks, which I can't even lie, is hard as hell, so I think they deserve to get paid. The rest of them are in college, I think, and they're getting volunteer hours or something. No one out here has _pasteles_."

The girls continued to talk, and Mercedes was introduced to a few more of the young ladies on the dance team. Most of them were nice and loved to gossip and chit-chat. They admitted they didn't know the first thing about hockey, but they had fun waving around pom-poms, and they loved dancing even more. Their job was to hand out prizes during the game, and occasionally a corporate sponsor would announce the prizes with them. When they weren't doing that, they'd sale tickets and chuck-a-pucks in the crowds, and if there were enough girls present, they'd dance during the game and during intermission. Mercedes was impressed with the job that the girls were doing, and surprised by the fact that they weren't getting paid. The biggest revelation of all was that none of the girls liked Sebastian. Mercedes was baffled when they first mentioned not liking him. Something in her wanted to defend him, but she didn't want the dancers to form a bad opinion of her so soon or even at all. She felt an allegiance to him, and also a feeling of camaraderie with matched appreciation and respect that any employee should have for their boss. But after the dancers had begun handing out flyers, and Mercedes had gotten the opportunity to retrieve her jacket and the will-call box from the office, and she had then found herself sitting in a secluded area of the ticket office, that she allowed herself to explore the reasons that they might all dislike Sebastian so strongly. It wasn't a big deal if one or two girls disliked him, but Santana had convinced Mercedes that the entire dance team disliked him, all the volunteers, and even some of the people on staff. When she thought about it, Mercedes recalled that Sebastian had not been the nicest to her. On the first day, he'd even been rude. But Mercedes had filed past that classification, deciding that he would warm up to her soon. Every once in a while when he would talk to her, even if only about business, momentarily it seemed like he would find himself lost in her eyes, and all the prior sternness and cold-heartedness would melt, and she'd be met with a hint of affection. He, then, would snap out of it, and end his conversation with Mercedes almost immediately, or say something gruff that would leave a bad taste in her mouth for the rest of the day. It never occurred to Mercedes that this was not just a mood for Sebastian, but possibly it was his personality. She figured that as she became less of a hassle in the office, that possibly he would warm up to her, and he would eventually treat her like anyone else in the office. Sebastian, overall, was friendly towards Tyler and Will.

Her watch read 6:04 when the door behind her opened, and Sebastian trailed in as a new man. He had shaved his beard off completely, though it was only the middle of November. His hair was washed and combed, but flowed freely onto his forehead. He wore a tight-fitted white button up, and a crisp black suit, with leather brown loafers. His tie was orange, magenta, and paisley-patterned. He still looked tired, but a lot better than before. He greeted Mercedes with a light smile, opened his mouth to say something, and then relented.

"You look better." Mercedes said, looking over her shoulder.

"Yeah?" Sebastian asked, clipping his walkie-talkie to his belt and bringing the earpiece to his ear. "I feel better. I took some painkillers, tried to take a nap."

"I went home too,' Mercedes added, seeing if he would make any comment about her new appearance.

"I see that, who are you trying to impress?"

"You." She joked.

Sebastian laughed, and Mercedes laughed with him to avoid any tension. He pulled up a seat beside her and sat down. "Has anyone came by yet?"

"Not yet, no."

Sebastian thumbed through the tickets, before leaning into his seat and propping his knee up. He took out his phone and began to thumb through an unknown app.

"By the way, do you need my number, just in case something comes up in the future and you need to get into contact with me?"

He shrugged, "I probably don't need it, no. If something comes up, we'll discuss it then."

"Alright,' Mercedes replied, deflated. She cracked her thumbs and pushed herself as close to the window as possible. She hadn't realized how big of a douche bag Sebastian was until she had began looking for the qualities, but now that she was looking, she couldn't believe she had missed them in the first place.

A customer did finally arrive at the window, someone named Ralph Kilmer. He had two tickets under his name and Mercedes was able to deliver them easily. He thanked her and walked away. Mercedes, impressed with her first true interaction with a customer, turned to Sebastian to relish in her joy. He was instead engrossed by his phone, and Mercedes sighed heavily, plopping her heavy head into her hand.

"What's your problem, sunshine?"

Mercedes shrugged. "Tired,' she lied.

"I'm sure you could have slept during your lunch instead of spending that time doing your makeup and hair."

"I wouldn't have been able to get a proper rest in under an hour." Mercedes said, rolling her eyes unbeknownst to Sebastian.

Sebastian turned off his phone's screen and placed it on the table, "You looked fine, you didn't need to redo anything."

Mercedes shrugged, she didn't have anything to argue about.

Blurred voices tapped into the room's atmosphere, someone on the ground floor or on concourse began to speak into the walkie-talkie. Mercedes could make out very few words, but could hear someone talking frenetically into the receiver.

Sebastian picked up the will-call box after the voice went out and swiped through the tickets. Turning on his mic, he spoke into it, "No, I don't see that name, Will.-' He paused, waiting for Will to reply. "I don't know what you want me to tell them. If they are one of the vendor's relatives, they have to buy tickets to see the game. It'd be different if they wanted to help sell, but that's not why they're here.- I don't remember.- It sounds familiar, but she told me distinctly that she only expected two people to be coming in to man her table.- I agree, but I don't know what you want me to tell them. -Yes. -Yeah. -Okay."

"What was that about?"

Sebastian pushed the box full of tickets away from him, but pulled himself closer to the window. "One of the vendors, some lady from a yoga and belly dancing place, led her family to believe that she could get them in for free. We let the vendor and their employees in free, and the employees are there to sell their product, that's it."

"What are you going to do?"

"The vendors pay us to be here, so if I give her family shit, we can kiss Yolanda's Yoga 'goodbye'. I'm just going to feed them some bullshit line, and make sure they know that this isn't going to happen again. I'll let them in tonight, though."

"Sounds like you've done this before."

Sebastian laughed, "The art of finesse.' He spoke into his walkie-talkie once more, "Hey, Will. I'm going to send them back to you when they get here. Give them one of those 'one-night all access' stickers. I'm not going to tell them they're all access, and I doubt they'll look at them anyway. I don't want to lose the yoga spot as a vendor, so I'm going to let them know that this isn't going to happen again. It's only a family of three, so I'm just going to let them in tonight.- Alright."

Sebastian had little time to end the conversation before a short, bald man appeared in front of the glass, very disgruntled. His yellow shirt contrasted against his bright red face, behind him stood a tall, thin, and pale girl with short black hair and a scowl. Mercedes assumed this was his daughter, and her presumed brother, stood beside her. He was short, had thick blond hair that he spiked-up and wore a dark-colored flannel.

"Hi, is this will-call?" The man shouted into the intercom.

"This is what you're looking for,' Sebastian responded coolly. "How can I assist you?"

"I'm Yolanda's husband, and I was told that we could get in for free because my wife works here."

"Okay, I can definitely help you out. Yolanda is a vendor with the Lima Legends, and we are so lucky to have her as a vendor, because we know how important Yolanda's Yoga is in our community. Now, over the phone, where messages are misconstrued perpetually, I told Yolanda that we would allow her and anyone who was running the table with her in for free. We would love to allow family members of ours in for free, but that privilege, not saying you would ever do this, but that privilege would be abused very quickly. Because I know this information is new to you, I'm going to let you guys in tonight. In the future, unless one or two of you are helping her out for the night, we can't let you in, you are going to have to buy your tickets. Tonight, what I'm going to ask you to do, is to return to the door that you first attempted to get in. That same man is going to let you in, and he will give you stickers signifying that you are welcome to be here for the night. I apologize for the miscommunication."

"Okay, thank you." The man said clammily, and trudged back off from whence he came.

"Wow,' Mercedes said, turning to face Sebastian. "That was really nice, you're good at this."

"I know,' Sebastian replied smugly. "I bet I'm going to get mic'd in later tonight about these people being downstairs near the locker rooms."

Mercedes laughed, "You think?"

"Let's hope not."

A few more people came around to the backside of the office looking for their tickets, Sebastian and Mercedes taking turns addressing the customers. Sebastian eventually picked up his phone to look at the time.

"Puck drop happened ten minutes ago and people are still coming in." He said, looking through the window to where fans could go and buy tickets.

"Are you going to go ahead and head out?" Mercedes asked, preparing herself for a brutal lash of words, a correction surely, him telling her that it was none of her business.

Sebastian shook his head, "All I do out there is answer stupid questions and kiss up to corporate sponsors. If Will wants me out there, he'll tell me."

"I bet this is the first time you've actually wanted to do will-call."

"I hate will-call,' he confessed. "It's better if you're doing it with someone, then you can talk about people when they walk away. Like, how big bird thought his wife worked for us. I really could have laughed, I almost laughed actually."

Mercedes shrugged, "He didn't look too bright, I'm glad you didn't laugh."

"I'm not a bad guy,' Sebastian revealed.

"I know, you have been giving me a really difficult time this first week, though."

Sebastian stared at Mercedes momentarily, "And I wouldn't have even known that."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember how I told you that thing about making sure that other people don't affect how you do you're job and your effort?"

"Yes…' Mercedes replied meekly.

"There you go. You haven't been acting like I've been making your job difficult, you've been working well, and I can assure you that all three of us see your effort. If you had started out the job thinking you would be congratulated for doing what we expected you to do, do you think you would have done your best to go above and beyond? No. But when you're in an environment where people are constantly making what you deem your best work out be mediocrity, you're encouraged to work harder. I'm not a douche bag for no reason, Mercedes. There's a method to my madness."

"That's all you had to say from the start." Mercedes replied, laughing.

"No, telling you that would have been the wrong thing to do. You learn from actions not words."

When the crowd began to die down, Sebastian retired to concourse after making sure Mercedes knew that she could, too, abandon her post at the beginning of third period. By third period, the ticket booth closed, and generally no one showed up to the game anyway. If there was someone present for will-call, security would get a hold of someone from the Legends's office, and they could receive their ticket that way. She felt nervous about leaving the area, but she knew that Sebastian wouldn't purposely tell her something wrong. Mercedes put on her jacket, knowing the arena would be cold, and dropped the will-call box back off in the office. She crept out of the office and back around to the front entrance, where the merchandise crew sat on their phones. The general entrance area wasn't very busy during games, as all the attendees were watching hockey rather than buying raffle tickets and merchandise. Mason and Madison were busy preparing prizes for raffle winners and pulling winning tickets; the dancers were nowhere to be seen, but Mercedes figured they were somewhere in the arena actually dancing, or maybe setting up the suite for the auction. The jersey auctions were held in the biggest suite in the arena that annexed a bar/lounge that during special events doubled as a club. She'd gone up there once during her time on the job, when Will had taken her around the arena to get a feel for where and what everything was.

Mercedes waved to the merchandise staff before walking past the wall separating the entrance and the arena, below her were over ten-thousand seats, and she assumed that at least four-thousand of those seats were filled with fans. It was beyond her that only four people worked for a company that provided service to this many people.

Mercedes could admit, she didn't know much about hockey. Sebastian and Tyler talked statistics every once and awhile, she knew Sebastian really liked the Minnesota Wild. Mercedes knew the Legends players' statistics by heart after logging so many of them, but she had no clue what they meant. She could see that the crowd was yelling excitedly, and she noted that the Lima Legends, whom were currently on a penalty kill, were still leading the game 3-1. There were fifteen minutes left in the third period, but seeing as though it had taken two periods just for one of the teams to achieve one point, she knew Lima had a win. The Legends were playing the Buffalo Beavers, a team from New York that wore brown and red jerseys. Tonight was a specialty night, meaning specialty jerseys for the Lima Legends. The theme for the game was 'Hello Autumn', and the jerseys were coated in leaves and other festivities that resembled the autumn months. Though 'Lima Legends' still remained on the front of the jersey in bold green and black, it was difficult for Mercedes to decipher who the Buffalo players were and who the Lima players were, since both jerseys had the same color scheme.

A loud foghorn blew and thousands of fans jumped, a loud ' _Lima Legends… Lima Legends… Lima Legends…,_ ' erupting from the crowd. The emcee announcing, "Goal!', much to the crowds delight. Mercedes began to clap along in enthusiasm, but truthfully, had not seen the goal occur.

"Putting your Lima Legends up to 4-1 was Sam Evans, with an assist from Camden Lindquist and Spencer Porter. We are still on a penalty kill with center Shawn Knudsen in the penalty box for roughing." The game paused as a car entered onto the ice to shoot shirts out to fans, who clamored wildly in a chance to get one. Mercedes laughed in delight as people ran and punched for t-shirts, when she was told that she could get anything from merchandise free-of-charge.

Fans walked by Mercedes without saying much, though a few would stop by, pat her on the shoulder, and congratulate her for doing an awesome job. She'd thank them politely, though unsure how they knew who she was or whether or not she was doing a good job. She'd spoken with a few corporate sponsors during her first week, but she hadn't expected any of them to know her by name or be able to congratulate her for a job well done. One of them even went as far as to say, "You're doing a better job than anyone else in that office ever has, you actually call back!"

The clock read five minutes by the time Will finally found Mercedes and placed his hands on her shoulders. "How was it?"

"It was fine,' Mercedes replied, smiling. "Sebastian was a lot of help, we got rid of most of the tickets. Fans were nice, generally speaking."

"That's awesome. We have a lot of people out here handling sales and fans, so you'll probably be on will-call for the rest of the season, if that's not a problem for you."

Mercedes shrugged, "It's fine."

Will nodded, "If we get an intern who is serious about the job and not just concerned with an hours quota, which most of them are, we can probably put them over there. At that point you can just come to games to help out or you might not even have to show up at all, I know will-call can get pretty tedious."

Mercedes shook her head, "It's okay, actually. I've really been enjoying myself, I went to a couple games earlier this season."

"Really?' Will asked.

Mercedes nodded, "I went to the exhibition game, and then I went to the Halloween game, the one that started at ten. That was a lot of fun, that was the game where my friend actually convinced me to apply."

Will laughed, "I actually came dressed as a clown, but I doubt you remember."

Mercedes laughed too, "I came dressed as a cat, so maybe it's better that we don't remember."

Smiling, Will checked his watch. "Mercedes, if you'd like, you can start heading over to the suite for the jersey auction. Sebastian should already be over there with the equipment you'll need, and some of the coliseum staff and the dancers should already be over there setting up."

"Okay,' Mercedes began, "where should I go after the auction?"

"Just head back to the office, and you and Sebastian can run credit cards."

Mercedes nodded before making her way past Will, and around the arena to a clearing that split off into stairs, an escalator, or an elevator. Taking the escalator, Mercedes arrived on a dimly lit, carpeted area. Voices lead her to the suite and lounge combo, where the dancers and coliseum staff had pushed the tables towards the back of the room, and instead put the seats in rows facing the median between the lounge and the suite. On the suite-side stood a low platform, presumably where the players would stand when their jerseys would be auctioned, and another table with two chairs, that was separated from the lower platform by a pole. A vanilla folder and a line of pens and markers lay on the table, Mercedes figured this is where her and Sebastian would sit when receiving credit card numbers and finalizing bids.

Sebastian, as well as some of the coliseum's staff, stood by the suite's opening, watching the game. By the crowd's roar, the clock seemed to be ticking down to the last second. There was no way for the Buffalo Beavers to make a come back, and Mercedes wondered why teams didn't just forfeit when there was clearly no way for them to win.

When the loud buzzer sounded, the crowd roared again, and Mercedes knew the game was over.

"Great game!" Someone in the lounge shouted, and everyone else began to clap. Mercedes found a few of the dancers near the bar, and moved to talk to them.

"Hey, guys,' she greeted.

"Hey, Mercedes,' Santana replied, handing Mercedes a canned sangria.

"Are we allowed to drink?" Mercedes asked, taking the can politely.

"Your coworker over there has downed two beers in the past ten minutes, and I think he has a third right now. If they say anything to you, tell me."

Mercedes opened the can, and tipped it to her mouth shortly. "It feels so good to be so bad," she said in laughter.

"How old are you, by the way? I have no problem giving drinks to minors, I just want to know when I'm doing it."

"Twenty-two. How old are you guys?"

The rest of the dancers had branched off onto conversations of their own, so Santana spoke for them. "I'm twenty-two too, most of the girls are twenty, twenty-one. We've got one really old bitch, she's like thirty-two. Our youngest is Rachel, she's seventeen, and none of the players know it."

"Why would the players need to know?" Mercedes asked curiously.

"She's slept with like three of them, I'm pretty sure she's basically dating Hudson."

Mercedes laughed and shook her head, "These girls take the age-of-consent very seriously."

"You're fucking right." Santana replied slyly.

"Are you guys allowed to sleep with players?"

Santana shook her head, walking around the bar, and getting into position: near the door to greet fans coming in for the auction. "We have to sign a contract saying that we won't sleep with them, date them, or have any contact with them outside of the Legends. They don't listen."

Mercedes raised her eyebrows out of curiosity, but asked nothing upon seeing fans beginning to walk in. She instead walked back to the front of the vicinity, where Sebastian was already sitting and shuffling through papers. Stepping over the platform, and walking towards her seat, Mercedes sat down, and sat her can on the floor.

"What can I help with?"

"Alright,' Sebastian began, taking Mercedes's lead and putting his can on the floor. "I forget there are kids here.

"Our emcee does the auction himself, the players are downstairs showering right now, and when they get done, they're going to come back up here and auction off their jerseys. In a few minutes, Tyler should be up here with all of the jerseys on a rack. Our job is to make sure that we are listening the entire time, we need to make sure that we are hearing the price that the jerseys are going for. You don't have to worry about getting the jerseys to the players, we've got in-game officials to do that, and it doesn't matter what order they are going in. We've got a roster right here,' he pointed to a sheet with all the players' names, statistics, and numbers. "Mark them out as their jerseys are bid, I'm going to write down the name of the player and the price it went for. When I hand you the paper I wrote that on, you need to get the bidder's name, number, and credit card number. If they want to pay in cash, that's fine, just write down that you received their money in cash. The players are going to come up to the table after their jersey is bid, talk to the buyer, probably sign the jersey. Make sure the buyer knows that if the signature comes off when the jersey is washed, that they can come back and get it re-signed. Our team's photographer is going to get a photo with the player, and then the players are free to talk with our fans or they can leave, it's up to them. After the auction is over, we're going to go back to the office and run credit cards, hopefully get out of here pretty quickly. The coliseum staff usually cleans this up for us, and we can call it a night. Did you miss anything?"

"How bad do the jerseys smell?"

Sebastian laughed, "Pretty fucking terrible."

"By the way,' she asked, "did Yolanda's family get caught somewhere they weren't supposed to be?"

"Good question." Sebastian replied before speaking into his walkie-talkie, "Hey, Will. Did you have any problems with Yolanda's family?-' He paused and laughed, "Alright, send them up."

"So?"

"He said he just let them in and didn't even give them a sticker, he didn't want to risk them being everywhere around the arena."

Mercedes nodded, "He's sending up the players?"

Sebastian shrugged, "A few of them. Some take ages to shower." Just as Sebastian finished speaking, Tyler busted in through a doorway behind the two, followed by a procession of in-game officials, and a rack of sweat-soaked jerseys.

"Dozier, Rubin, and Knudsen are on their way up here." He announced.

Sebastian turned to face Tyler, speaking in a lone tone, "Knudsen spent his entire night either on the bench or in the box, so I'm not sure he's getting much attention tonight."

Tyler shrugged, "He's a fighter, the girls like him. It'll sell."

"Evans almost got a hat trick tonight, I'm predicting he's going to go for the highest." One of the in-game officials mentioned.

"Him and Weston have been battling for points since game one, Weston is pretty good for the goals and Evans with the assists, but Weston has been out for the past two games with his elbow injury, and Evans has been pretty successful with the assists and the goals. We might have a new fan favorite,' Tyler said.

"Evans is already a fan favorite."

"I'm surprised he's able to function, he had a worse night then I did." Sebastian joked.

Tyler shook his head, "He was at that party, too?"

"Very much so." Sebastian laughed.

Tyler shook his head and continued, "Coach is talking about Windsor getting called up, and if we lose our captain, either Evans or Hudson is going to get it."

"Really?' Sebastian asked, "Hudson's young, I'd much rather see Evans and Weston battling for the seat."

"Weston isn't battling for anything as long as he's in the stands and not in the game."

Before Sebastian could speak, the room, filled with fans, erupted into applause as a few of the players walked in.

They were all dressed in suits, though some only wore their button-up with no jacket. The first one carried a duffle-bag on his side and a protein shake in his other hand, he shook a few hands upon walking in, and gave Sebastian a friendly smile. Mercedes watched Sebastian write 'Rubin' on the paper, and then looked up as their emcee began the event. One of the in-game officials handed Rubin his jersey as he stepped onto the platform along with the emcee, who they called 'Chum'.

"Good game tonight, eh?' Chum shouted to the crowd, patting Rubin on the back. Rubin nodded, and flashed the crowd an award-winning smile, causing them to go mad with applause and whistles. Looking at the roster, Mercedes noted that Rubin was a prominent goal-scorer, and looked to hold a solid place on the team. He had played every game, and was bested only by Weston, Evans, Mendes, and Windsor.

"We're going to start the bid off at $200, do I have $200? $200 to the woman in the green shirt, do I have a $225? $225!"

"$300!" Someone shouted eagerly.

"We have a $300? Where's the $300? We've got a $300. $325, does anyone want to buy Thomas Rubin's jersey tonight for $325?" Chum went on that way for minutes, until the final bidder settled on $675. The buyers were an older couple who claimed that their daughter, who was at home, sick, loved Rubin more than anyone else on this planet.

"You're just her favorite player,' they gushed.

"Am I, eh? Well, we love our fans.' Rubin explained, hugging the older woman. He picked up a pen and bent down to sign the jersey, before holding it up for the couple to see. "If this washes off, you have her bring it back to me and I will sign it again, personally."

"Okay,' they nodded, before shuffling towards him to smile for a picture. Rubin shook both their hands, thanked them again for buying his jersey, and seemingly left. The couple hovered over Mercedes, delivering to them their credit card number, name, and number, and describing how lucky they felt to have one Thomas's jersey.

"He's a good player, you don't usually get em' that cheap,' the man said.

"He's a good player, alright, but he's a looker, isn't he?" The wife indulged, snickering and looking at Mercedes for an answer.

Mercedes smiled lightly, "He definitely was a cutie,' she said, finishing copying the number. "Alright, here you go. Thanks for coming out, you guys,' Mercedes finished, handing them their card back. They both smiled widely, full of content, and retreated from the table. By that time, Dozier and Knudsen's jerseys had already been auctioned off, and Mercedes was immediately writing down credit card numbers again.

"So, you like Rubin?" Sebastian asked absently.

"What, are you jealous?"

Sebastian let out an unflattering stifled laugh, looking over at Mercedes and shaking his head. "No."

Soon after, five more young men walked into an array of applause and screams. They all looked relatively young, Mercedes's age or a few years older. Looking at the jerseys they were handed when they came towards the suite, Mercedes profiled the young men as Berkeley Macon, Steph McLaurin, Finn Hudson, Spencer Porter, and Nathan Elias. Mercedes watched Finn smile at Rachel, and wondered if anyone else noticed the incident.

By the applause Finn received when he stepped on the platform, she knew his jersey would go for a bit of money. Turning to face the platform, Mercedes watched as McLaurin and Macon moved to stand behind her in an effort to stay out of the way of any pictures being taken of Hudson while he was on the platform.

"How bad does your jersey smell?" McLaurin asked.

Macon brought his jersey to his nose, and pulled it away just as soon. "If someone was dead, you could hang this over them and it'd bring them back to life."

McLaurin laughed through his teeth, "That's gross."

"What about you?"

"Holm was in the goal the entire night, the only reason mine should smell bad is if one of you accidentally flicked some sweat on it." McLaurin, the team's backup goalie, said.

Mercedes laughed while the guys were talking, but didn't start a conversation with any of them. The last thing she wanted was for Sebastian to think she was incapable of doing her job because she had a schoolgirl-crush on one of the hockey players.

Hudson's jersey went for $1,200 even, and McLaurin's went for $500. Porter and Macon had both received assists that game, so their jerseys probably sold for a bit more than they usually would have. Macon tripped while stepping off of the platform, and was saved by a few comical players walking in at just the right time. A large group of players followed, and their jerseys went for large bids. Mercedes didn't have much of an opportunity to get a look at their faces or determine if they were having a look at hers, but some did hold her contact momentarily, though she didn't have much of an opportunity to get their names. When she finally got a break, Mercedes was able to turn around and discovered that only four of the nineteen active player's jerseys remained. Players that were injured didn't have their jerseys auctioned off because they hadn't played in them, but from what Mercedes knew, Weston was the only one missing from the line-up. Upon having a vacancy from writing and straining to hear, Sebastian finally turned back to Mercedes, and cracked his knuckles.

"Exciting, huh?"

"It's moving very quickly,' she looked over to the roster. "Who do we have left?"

"We've got a new guy, Matthias Cardigan. Other than him, we're still waiting on Lynn, Evans, and Westley. But the last two are probably already done, and Will is holding them."

"Why would he do that?"

"We get the most revenue from Westley and Evans. They have the biggest fan bases within our team, if not the league. Mendes, Windsor, Hudson, maybe even Weston, they're popular, but nowhere near as popular as Tyson and Sam."

"Do you know why the fans like them so much?" Mercedes asked in curiosity.

"Other than the obvious? They're attractive, wives like them. Happy wife, happy life. They're both pretty young guys, a lot of families want to host them and sponsor them. I guess they're generally good guys. Sam and I are actually pretty close, we hang out a bit, he's a cool guy. He's one of our only players actually from the United States, he's from Kentucky. The fans have pinned him the 'Hometown Sweetheart', he's got this super light country accent, and he's tied for the league's top scorer. He's got this faint dash of innocence, which I'll tell you isn't a façade, and I guess the fans like that.

"As for Westley, total Casanova. The guy literally has groupies. He's fresh out of the Yukon, and I don't think there are many girls up there that aren't his cousin, so I think he's trying to have enough sex to last him the decade. He's really giant amongst the women, his fan base is bigger than Evans's even. He's not even a great player, but we'd be dumb asses to get rid of him. They've both got the long, 'hockey' hair,' Sebastian shook his head. "I don't care."

"Who's your favorite?" Mercedes asked, trying to form her own opinions.

"Sam is really cool,' Sebastian said, biting his thumb. "He's a Christian, he's got good morals. He's also an asset to the team, he shows up to meet-and-greets and he makes it ever practice. He's an ideal player."

"He sounds like he fits into the 'hometown sweetheart' trope."

Sebastian nodded, "That he does."

Within minutes, the final four men walked into the lounge. The crowd, who had remained hushed until then, burst into applause and screams unheard before. Mercedes was blown away by the adoration, but when she saw the two men walking in, shoulder-to-shoulder, she knew the fanfare was well worth it.

One of the men, who stood tall and lean, had shoulder-length blonde hair that was parted straight down the middle. He ran his fingers through it just as he walked past the bar, leaving the waves pushed backwards, and opening up his face. He had bright green eyes, and an even brighter white smile. His arms nearly burst out of a blue polka-dot button-up he wore, along with a pair of khaki slacks. He wore a hair tie around his wrist, along with a red 'W.W.J.D?' bracelet. _The fans couldn't get enough of him._

The other man, who towered over the first by three or four inches, had light brown hair pulled back by a thin black hair band. He had rough, tanned skin and light freckles. His green eyes shot through the crowd like daggers, and the darkness around his eyes seemed almost intensified by eyeliner. His lips remained parted, unsure of whether to form a smile or twist into a frown. He had a deep cut on his nose, that had began to heel, but still remained battered, forming a blue, black, and purple bruise around the bridge of his nose and into the corner of his left eye. He walked tall, and was draped by a shadow of calm and confidence. He wore a tight-fitting white button-up, and a loose black tie. His pants were even tighter than his shirt, and his shoes refracted every bit of light in the room. He wore a black band around his pinkie, and stopped to pet a small child who had run up to him and his teammates as they walked in.

 _It had been worth the wait._

Westley and Evans mounted the platform and shuffled back into the suite, the fans still roaring with applause. Behind them followed Cardigan and Lynn, the latter being first to auction off his jersey. Lynn and Cardigan's jerseys went quickly, the fans more than eager to be given the chance to throw punches and kicks in order to spend money on Sam or Tyson.

"Who do you guys want first?' Chum roared, and an intense ' _Westley… Westley… Westley…,_ ' boomed throughout. The blond laughed and shrugged his shoulders, he allowed the tall brunette to mount the platform with his jersey draped over his arm. This was Tyson Westley, #23, the bad boy of the team. Known for sleeping around with fans in every city and ranked for second in points. He was a god and the people knew it.

The emcee hushed the crowd and began the bids. Westley ran his fingers through his hair each time the bid hit a new hundred, and it was not before long that the price of his jersey had crept it's way into the three-thousands.

"Wow,' Mercedes whispered to Sebastian, "That's crazy, that's the most any jersey has gone for tonight."

Sebastian shook his head in awe, "I wouldn't be surprised if it hit five-thousand, these people are a new species."

"Do we have a three-thousand and seven-fifty? Three thousand and seven-fifty?" Chum crowed into the mic, while Mercedes watched Sam waft from foot to foot out the corner of her eye.

"Are you nervous?" She asked him boldly.

He nodded and flashed her a bright smile. "That's a hard one to go after."

Mercedes stomach turned when he smiled, her eyes widening when he replied. Unlike with Sebastian, she didn't have to search for any warmth in Sam, he radiated it. Stuck in a trance, she nodded, and looked away quickly. Sam, flattered, chuckled lightly. He made his way to Sebastian and squatted beside him.

"Hey, pal."

"Hey, Sam,' Sebastian said, patting Sam on the back. "Good game tonight."

"Thanks, should've been better."

"A couple kegs of beer'll slow you down." Sebastian said, smirking slightly.

"I usually don't drink that much, I've never drunk that much.' He said definitely. Mercedes had to strain to hear their conversation, but she was curious about what the two were speaking about. They seemed to contrast each other so perfectly, she was bewildered that they were friends.

Chum continued bidding in the background until Sebastian and Sam's attention turned to him again, this time a bigger number being announced than what was expected.

"Six-thousand going once, six-thousand going twice. Sold to the man in the biker jacket for six-thousand dollars." Chum boomed as Westley hopped off the platform and hugged the man, who looked to be a biker.

"That's crazy." Sam proclaimed, smiling at Mercedes. "Looks like I'm up next."

"Good luck,' she nodded, giving Sam a thumbs-up.

Sam laughed, "Thanks?,' he asked. "Thank you." He decided, more categorically before making his way to the platform.

Mercedes bit her cheek in embarrassment and turned her gaze to the wide biker and Westley.

"Awesome bid tonight, I hope you enjoy your jersey." Sebastian said, shaking the biker's hand firmly.

"My wife loves her some Tyson. Nothing's too good for the Mrs." The biker boomed back. Westley stood in front of Mercedes and scanned the audience generously before bending over to sign the jersey.

"I haven't seen you around here before,' he said, sucking his teeth before giving his full attention to penning his signature onto the back of the jersey.

"I just started this week." Mercedes revealed, tethering her attention between Sam on the platform and Tyson inches away from her. She watched as he licked, then bit his lip.

"It's nice to see someone around here who doesn't look all business, what's your name?"

"Mercedes."

"It's nice to meet you, Mercedes,' he extended his hand for her to shake. "I'm Tyson."

"Nice to meet you, Tyson."

He smiled blindly at her before raising his jersey and passing it off to the biker, who had given Sebastian all six-thousand dollars in cash. Mercedes was busy staring absentmindedly into Tyson's eyes when Sebastian reached over to her lap to grab the cash bag, and accidentally landed an open palm onto her 'private area', resulting in a shiver running through her body just as Westley winked at her, and Sam hopped off the platform and in front of the table to sign his jersey.

Mercedes was void, too many things had happened too quickly, and Sam stood in front of her gushing with a large smile, expecting to converse.

Sebastian held his hands up, wide-eyed and apologetic, still holding six-thousand dollars in his lap, but refusing to try to retrieve the cash bag again.

Westley had deserted his previous post, dodging adoring fans and heading for home.

Chum thanked everyone for coming and told them that they were free to stay behind and get merchandise signed by the players. Hobbling down from the platform, he eyed the disheveled situation, and settled the issue by talking to the buyer while Sebastian and Mercedes attempted to get their problem in order.

Mercedes tossed the cash bag into Sebastian's lap, and looked over Sam's head in an effort to see if Westley was still in the lounge.

"I didn't do too bad,' Sam revealed when he bent over to sign his jersey with a fluorescent silver pen.

"How much did it go for, by the way?" Mercedes asked, watching Sebastian trying to neatly file an immense amount of hundred dollar bills into the small bag. She reached over him to collect the final auction sheet, causing Sebastian to halt in his tracks completely, afraid of anymore unrequited groping.

Sam smiled out the corner of his mouth, "Five-thousand and two-fifty."

"Wow, big roller,' Mercedes replied, laughing at Sam.

"I didn't get your name, by the way."

"Mercedes."

"Nice to know you, Mercedes. I'm pretty bad with names, do you mind if I just call you Cedes or something?"

Mercedes shrugged, "Everything is okay, just don't call me Benz."

Sam laughed loudly and reached over the table to shake Mercedes's hand, "I'm Sam Evans. You probably know me as #19."

"Or the Hometown Sweetheart."

"Or the Hometown Sweetheart,' he flattered. Sam backed away from the table and folded his jersey neatly and handed it to his buyer, a tiny, older woman. She hugged Sam lightly, and moved over to Mercedes to deliver her credit card number. Sam lingered behind until the woman was done, and leaned on the table, watching Sebastian and Mercedes carefully.

"You guys gotta run all of these tonight?"

Sebastian nodded, "That we do."

Sam laughed, putting caps on all the pens to try to help out. The dancers had managed to push all the chairs and tables back into proper formation, and the coliseum's staff were busy hauling out the platform. Sebastian and Mercedes finished the last bit of their auction effort and pushed themselves away from the table. Mercedes grabbed her sangria and Sebastian's beer off the floor, handing Sebastian his prospective drink. He thanked her lowly, and walked around the table to talk to Sam. The entire altercation had only lasted a bit over forty minutes, though it seemed like an hour long affair.

Sam leaped off the table and helped a man dressed in a gray uniform fold the table up, as some of the dancers dragged the chairs bag to the lounge. The doors combining the suite and the lounge were shut, and the lounge area looked like a bar once again.

"How'd the profit look?" Sam asked, following Sebastian and Mercedes out of the lounge.

"Over forty thousand, at least." Sebastian replied between a yawn.

"Wow,' Sam mouthed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm going to get out of here, we've got early practice tomorrow and we're going on the road right after."

"You guys are playing the Richmond Raiders on Monday, right?"

Sam shrugged, "You know more than I do,' he laughed. Sebastian smiled back, notably tired. He gave Sam a pat on the shoulder and waved goodnight, walking away to the escalators to return to the office.

Sam sighed heavily through his teeth, "How was your first auction, Mercedes?"

"Long and tiring, I might not even make it to church in the morning. I need to sleep for at least two days."

Sam smiled, a few players passed the two as they made their way out of the lounge, and Sam and Mercedes waved together in unison.

"We only have about one a month, so no excuse to be missing too much church."

"Oh, yeah? When was the last time you went to church, Evans?" Mercedes teased.

"I went Wednesday night,' he indulged.

"Good,' Mercedes said, smiling lightly. She took her jacket off finally and placed it over her arm alongside her purse. "Did you expect your jersey to do so well?"

Sam shook his head, "No. I can only be liked so much, especially when we've got people like Westley on the team."

"I know what you mean."

"Yeah…' he lingered, deciding whether or not to ask for Mercedes's number or not. She wasn't like all the other girls he met at hockey games, she didn't act like a ridiculous, but she didn't feign as if she knew everything about hockey. She laughed at his dorky jokes, and he liked her eyes. She felt… _honest_.

Sam knew the rule about not dating girls on the promo team, but coach hadn't mentioned anyone who worked on staff. Maybe because it hadn't been a factor before then. "I don't want to keep you."

"Yeah, you've got practice tomorrow,' Mercedes said, nodding. "I'll see you later, Sam." She decided that Sam was nice, and had she not still been spinning from the whirlwind of Westley winking at her, though it was small, she may have noticed that Sam seemed subtly interested.

He watched as Mercedes walked away, kicking himself for not doing more to keep her there. "Yeah,' Sam muttered, deciding to take the stairs down to the basement.

Descending from the escalator quickly, Mercedes walked into the office where Sebastian had already began typing in credit card numbers. He was pushed deeply into her desk's chair, and did not bother to look up at her when she did walk in.

"Take a seat,' he offered, extending his hand to one of the few stranded chairs in the lobby. Sebastian had cracked open another beer and was completely enthralled in getting the numbers punched in as quickly as possible.

"How many do you have left?" Mercedes asked.

Sebastian shrugged, "Like thirteen."

"That's not too bad."

He shrugged again, "It would be more efficient if we had another credit card swiper."

Figuring she couldn't do much to help, Mercedes resolved to playing games on her phone. "Are we the only two from the office left?,' she asked to fill the silence.

Sebastian answered between the sound of continuous clicking, "Will is gone, I know. Tyler is probably in the basement with the players, so you're not going to see him anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to apologize about earlier."

Mercedes feigned coyness, "What happened earlier?"

Sebastian looked at Mercedes flatly before untangling himself from his walkie-talkie and tossing it onto the desk, "It would appear that I got a bit handsy, would it not?"

Mercedes laughed, "Oh! That. Don't worry about it, just don't get any ideas."

Sebastian laughed, "Trust me, I won't."

Sebastian finished putting the credit card numbers in with record speed while Mercedes played a quiet game on her phone, he looked up every few seconds to make sure she had not decided that sitting in his presence, saying nothing, was boring and that it was time for her to go. When he did finish, Sebastian left everything as it was and settled on cleaning the office Monday morning.

"I'm going to call it a night,' he said, standing up and putting his hands into his pockets. "Are you ready?"

"Sure,' Mercedes said.

Sebastian walked around the desk and let Mercedes guide the way to the back door's entrance, upon opening the door, Mercedes saw Sebastian's hand reach out beside her to hold it open.

"Thank you,' she said politely.

"No problem,' Sebastian said, pulling his keys from out of his pocket. He shut the lights in the office off behind him, and locked the backdoor. Someone in the coliseum always did rounds before locking everything up, and would lock the office's main entrance so that Sebastian did not have to.

"I'm going to walk you to your car."

Mercedes laughed as the two stepped onto the pavement and into the parking lot. "I'm a big girl,' she confided.

"I know,' Sebastian said. "I just wanted the opportunity to thank you for doing an awesome job this week, and an even better job tonight. You really proved yourself to me, Mercedes."

"Thanks,' Mercedes said, smiling at Sebastian. She could sense him beginning to heat up, a fracture of his ice cracking. "You're not such a bad boss yourself."

He laughed and twiddled his keys in his hands, "I was also,' he cleared his throat. "Also thinking about you telling me I hadn't been very nice to you."

"Yeah…"

He shrugged his shoulders as the two rounded to Mercedes's Audi, "I owe you an apology."

Mercedes chuckled lightly, "You act like this is the first time you've ever done this sort of thing."

Sebastian smiled too, finally making eye contact with Mercedes. His eyes reminded her of the similar arresting look in Westley's bright emerald eyes. "I'm not above realizing when I'm in the wrong, I want our relationship to work out in the best way possible,' he gripped her car tightly, lost for words. "I'm not sure… I just want you to know that you're an asset to the team, and I really like you. I don't mean to be some insufferable taskmaster."

Mercedes touched Sebastian's arm lightly, smiling. "Thanks,' she whispered. "That means a lot."

Sebastian nodded, smiling at Mercedes and shifting between her eyes. He thought to mention what he hadn't said when he'd walked into the ticket office: _you look beautiful._

Deciding against it, yet again, he stood back so that Mercedes could get into her car, and watched her drive away. Soon he stood alone in the parking lot, and like someone not so long before, kicked himself for not doing more to keep her there.

* * *

 **You don't have to tell me, I know this is ridiculously long. Tell me what you think of the canon characters making an entrance, and what you think of my original characters. I'm at the whim of the people! This was really only this long because I promised you guys Sam would make his appearance in the second chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

A simple _'Want to catch a beer sometime?'_ had turned into a office and team get-together. Sebastian wholly regretted asking the question in the first place. Mercedes, never thinking someone was flirting with her, immediately assumed the suggestion was friendly, and opted to begin inviting the rest of the office, and ended off planning a get-together at a local bar for the entire team.

"Do you guys do stuff like this often?' She'd asked. "I think this is such a cool idea, it's a great way for everyone to bond, thanks for bringing it up."

"Yeah,' Sebastian had replied, trudging away from the secretary desk with his keys in hand.

The chosen bar was Linden's, an Irish-stylized pub that sold beer, played hockey, and had a co-ed staff. Coach Cooter made it mandatory for all players to show even if they'd only stay for twenty or thirty minutes. The designated meet-up time was at nine p.m., but most of the players didn't show up until ten or later. It was on a Friday when the team didn't have a game, and everyone who worked for the team was required to attend, except Will, of course. Sebastian and Mercedes had agreed to both arrive around twenty minutes early so that they would 'have eyes on each other the entire time'. For Sebastian, it was a lame excuse to get some alone time with her and convince her to avoid any of the player's wicked ways.

Mercedes wore her hair long and parted down the middle. A khaki jacket and white shirt lay underneath a blue and teal floral scarf yet over black leggings and beige heels. Her golden hoop earrings shone when she titled her head or laughed too hard, and jewelry on her hands and arms begged to take the spotlight from her eyes. It was dressed-down in Mercedes's opinion, but Sebastian complimented her immediately upon seeing her.

"You look like you're going out on a hot date, you didn't have to do so much to impress me."

"You wish,' Mercedes sneered, setting her clutch bag on the bar and hopping into a stool beside Sebastian. "This magic took all three hours given from the last time I saw you."

"As did this,' Sebastian replied, using his hand to display his outfit. A pair of light blue jeans cuffed at the bottom to reveal a pair of tan, suede dress-up shoes. On top, he wore a tight light gray NASA space camp tee, and a gold chain dangled loosely around his neck. His face, surprisingly, remained shorn, though his hair had gotten longer than Mercedes had ever witnessed. It still remained professional, though it had grown long enough to survive a push behind the ear.

Mercedes laughed politely and ordered a drink, "That's hard to believe."

"Are you insulting me?"

"You look like it took eight minutes for you to get ready."

"Why eight exactly?"

"Would you be pleased had I said seven?"

Sebastian nodded, "Most certainly."

"It looks like you took seven minutes to get ready, Sebastian." Mercedes finalized.

"It took me eight, c'mon." He shook his head in faux disappointment, and noting Mercedes small grin, laid a hand on her arm in laugher, but relented when she only smirked in response.

"Have you been her before?" She asked.

"I'm sober."

Mercedes gasped, "Wow, since when?"

Sebastian shook his head and stared at the beer in his hands, "I've never drunk a day in my life."

"You're such a liar."

"You scar me, Katherine."

"Katherine?"

Sebastian bit down, "Is that not the girl's name in 'The Taming of the Shrew'?"

Mercedes shrugged, "I've never heard of that."

"It's Shakespeare."

"Who?"

Sebastian's eyes widened as he pushed himself towards the bar and his jaw dropped, "Are you serious? Do you not know who Shakespeare is?"

Mercedes bit her bottom lip, and began to shake her head, laughing deep into her chest. "I know who Shakespeare is, Sebastian."

Sebastian threw a hand to his chest and sighed in relief. "I was very scared."

Mercedes nodded, "I could tell… You are really so much more fun outside of work."

He took a drink from the beer and nodded, "You tell me that a lot."

Before Mercedes could reply, she looked up to see none other than player #19 walk through the door. The blonde's eyes immediately caught Mercedes, and he waved vivaciously at her and Sebastian. Mercedes quickly suggested the duo move from the bar to a table, and upon moving Sam caught up with Sebastian and Mercedes, offering them both hugs.

"Hey, I haven't seen you two in a while, how's it going?" Sam asked, sitting in a stool across from Mercedes.

"Pretty good,' Sebastian replied, cracking his knuckles and stretching into his seat. "You want a beer or anything?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't really drink. After that party, I-' he paused in laughter, unable to finish the sentence. Sebastian nodded in understanding, he couldn't forget the hangover.

Mercedes, though, instantly felt some guilt about the drink in her hand, and she thought about pushing it over to Sebastian so that she could pretend it was his. Would he go along with the façade? Would he voice against her schoolgirl-crush on Sam? Could he tell?

"Yeah, I was just telling Mercedes here that I, myself, am sober. She doesn't believe me."

"That's your second beer already." Mercedes laughed, making eye contact with Sam.

"Sebastian, here, is liable to get into trouble, you have to watch after him, handle with care."

Mercedes nodded, both the boys watching her then. "Oh, I know."

The time went by quickly, and players began to pour in as the clock ticked. A few stopped by the table to pat Sam and Sebastian on the back. A few smiled and talked to Mercedes; Brody Weston, who had spent a lot of time in the office due to his injury, had actually stooped down to kiss the girl on the cheek, which was met with a series of cat-calls from Sam and Sebastian. Mercedes personally invited a few of the girls from the dance team, and they, too, came and greeted her. Tyler, Coach Cooter, and some of the other officials stayed for a few minutes to chat, but left after a one or two beers. The bar doubled as a club after ten' o'clock, and Mercedes noticed the only team player to leave was Finn Hudson, who, conveniently, had Rachel on his arm. Upon seeing them leave, Santana made eye contact with Mercedes almost instantly and the two shook their heads at the same time.

A lot of local fans had caught word of the engagement, consequently leaving the bar full of barely legal girls and college guys who knew a lot about hockey. None of the players were married, and most were single, but all danced with no inhibitions. Sam stayed seated at the table with Mercedes and Sebastian, occasionally laughing at some of his teammates' dance moves.

"Do you want to dance?' He asked eventually, shouting over the music to Mercedes.

Blushing, Mercedes shook her head. "Don't let Sebastian and I keep you from busting a move, Sam."

Sam smiled and looked around the bar, "There are a lot of people here,' he explained.

Mercedes had to shout to make her voice known, "We know, I'm happy everyone could make it. I want you to have fun."

"Oh,' he emphasized, "Who else in here could be as fun as the two of you?"

Sebastian released a stifled laugh and crossed his arms, "Mercedes and I have the chemistry and demeanor of an old, married couple. What fun?"

"Yes,' she joked, leaning over and draping Sebastian's arm. "We are the worst."

"Yes, the worst,' Sam cooed, the three gushing over each other. Mercedes pulled back from Sebastian and smiled at Sam, who held eye contact with her.

"Sebastian, I know you like to party. Why are you still sitting?" Mercedes asked.

Sebastian shook his head, "I don't party with people who work for me."

"Oh, is that a dig?" She replied. The music paused and the three could finally stop yelling to hear each other.

"Oh,' Sebastian shook his hands. "No, I meant the hockey players. Anytime you want to go out to the club, Mercedes, just let me know."

Mercedes nodded eagerly, "I'll be sure to let you know… Only if Sam comes along."

"Only if he promises to drink,' Sebastian tagged.

Sam smiled, "Mercedes, I will go anywhere you ask me to go."

Sebastian's ears perked at Sam's words, but to combat what seemed like casual flirting, he nodded. "Likewise."

Mercedes smiled tightly and flipped her hair over her shoulder, she wiped beneath her eyes and looked around the club. "Is it bad if we're the first people to leave?' She asked Sebastian.

"We can't be the first…' Sebastian hypothesized.

"It's late, I'm ready to go." Mercedes admitted, frowning at Sam.

Sebastian nodded, he took his beer and washed down the final gulps. Shoving his keys into his pockets, he hopped off the stool, and took Mercedes's elbow in assistance.

"Thank you,' she said, pushing her stool back in, and dragging her purse to her arm. "Are you going to stay, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, "No, I think I'll go, as well."

The trio walked out of the bar in file, dipping through dancing girls and hockey players. Mercedes saw Westley for the first time that night out of the corner of her eye, and it did not surprise her that he was deep in a couch with a thin girl underneath his arm. She looked ethnic, way out of Lima's reaches. Smirking, Mercedes turned around to Sebastian and pointed his attention to the player. Sebastian sucked his teeth and shook his head, he then put both hands on Mercedes's shoulders and rested his chin atop her head. The two walked in pace before reaching the door, which Sam held for the two. Outside the weather was brisk, but warmer than the average Ohioan December.

The three walked a few steps out of the bar before arranging back into a group.

"I'm going to walk Mercedes to her car, I'll catch up with you later…?" Sam asked Sebastian, leaving little room for variation.

"Yeah,' Sebastian batted away, "Enjoy your night. I'll see you both Monday." He lumbered away gently before either could bid him farewell, though Mercedes did toss a soft, "Bye, Sebastian."

"So,' Sam began again, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking forward.

"I just parked right over here,' Mercedes said, pointing over to the parking lot adjacent to the bar.

"Okay, that's fine."

"So, Mr. Hometown Sweetheart, how have you been?"

Sam laughed at his nickname, "I've been good, Ms. Mercedes. How apart yourself?"

"I've been pretty good, it's officially been a month with the team!' Mercedes clenched her jaw in excitement, "Sebastian has really been awesome lately, so sweet. He's really warmed up to me,' she trailed.

Sam smiled down at Mercedes, "You like working for the Legends?"

"I do… Do you like playing for the Legends?"

Sam shrugged, "I can't complain… I'm kidding,' the two laughed. "It's really cool, I've gotten traded a bit, but Lima feels like home."

"I'm glad,' Mercedes nodded. "I don't want to see you go."

"That's not completely my choice, now is it?" Sam chuckled, trailing off the pavement and into the parking lot. He followed Mercedes to her car, but the two stopped to chat.

"Your playing is deciding factor, Mr. Evans."

"And would you say I'm a good player?' he flirted.

Mercedes blushed, "I don't know much about hockey, I know you're a scorer. I know you bring in a lot of revenue, and I think I'd miss hearing your name right before puck drop."

"Player #19, from Frankfort, Kentucky, Sam Evans!', he mocked Chum's announcement that on game nights cued him to skate out onto the ice for lineup.

"That sounded just like him."

"I'm great at impressions too,' Sam boasted. "You'll have to hear some soon."

"Why not now?" Mercedes asked, leaning against her car and crossing her arms.

"I've got to warm-up my vocals, sorry,' Sam chuckled.

Mercedes nodded, "I totally understand, if you asked me to sing right now, I probably couldn't."

"Do you sing?" Sam asked, a wave of surprise washing over him.

Mercedes nodded, "I used to sing in my church's choir, now my shower is my main venue of choice."

Sam smirked, "I bet you sing like an angel."

"Whenever you do an impression for me, I'll sing for you. Deal?" Mercedes extended her pinky for a pinky-promise. Sam laughed, but noting the determination on Mercedes's face, extended his pinky for her grasp.

"Deal."

Mercedes stepped back to open her car door, and reached into the front seat to start the ignition. She rolled down the window when the engine turned over and plopped into her seat before shutting the door.

"What are you up to tomorrow?" She asked in conversation.

Sam shook his head, "Nothing… yet."

Mercedes gasped, "I'm surprised you don't have plans lined up. Girls aside, a lot of the players have fans who will invite them places, families who want to host them."

Sam shrugged, "Most of my weekends are spent playing video games or practicing."

Mercedes laughed, "Very cool."

A silence lingered between the two momentarily, neither wanting to say goodbye, but both realizing talking-points were dwindling. Sam, eventually, did walk closer to car, and leaned over the window.

"I'm going to be upset with myself later if I don't ask now."

"Ask what?' Mercedes asked, slinking into her seat to get a better look at Sam.

"Would it displeasure you to let me have your number?"

Mercedes smiled, "No, Sam. It would not displeasure me to let you have my number. I'm upset you waited so long to ask."

Sam smiled and pulled away, "I wanted to ask before, but I wasn't sure you were interested."

Mercedes handed her phone over to Sam, "And what makes you so sure now?"

"I'm not,' he laughed bravely. "I'm taking a leap of faith."

* * *

 **The next chapter is probably going to experience a bit of a time jump, so plan in advance! I got this out a bit quicker than I expected, so here you are! Remember to review, follow, and favorite.**


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was a terrible driver; Mercedes had no clue how she had allowed herself to let him drive on their first date, but immediately she regretted it. He sported a large black Silverado with a Kentucky license plate, but had yet to master keeping the truck in one lane. Mercedes shifted uncomfortably during the entire drive, even opting to hold onto the door handle for support after Sam attempted to turn left on a red light. She would have preferred to drive, but he'd told her that the date was a surprise, and he would like to take her there himself. Mercedes, reluctantly, gave up her address, and the two set a date on the closest weekend that the Lima Legends were not playing out of town. Picking Mercedes up on a Saturday around noon, Sam coolly parked in her apartment complex's designated area, and knocked on her door a few times. Mercedes, who seemed happy to see him, opened the door with a great smile, and a question on whether her outfit was acceptable or not. Dressed in a long-sleeved black top, jeans, tan boots, and a Christmas-styled vest, Sam nodded and discerned that her outfit was perfectly fine. Complimenting Mercedes on her vest, he compared it to his sweater that, too, was coated in Christmas stripes, above dark straight-leg jeans and white tennis shoes. Mercedes ducked back in her apartment quickly to get her purse, and the two headed out. The car ride did start out with some shocking jolts, but Mercedes paid no mind until Sam clipped a corner, and the truck rode onto a sidewalk. Sam appeared to have no diffidence relating to his driving, but Mercedes could not help but to gasp anytime she could see the truck drifting over the white line. She prayed their destination wasn't far.

After driving for a little over twenty minutes, Sam pulled into a giant warehouse, littered with a few cars in it's dense parking lot. The front of the building read 'Everey Athletics' in faded, rusted red. The general area looked like an abandoned industrial park, and few buildings stood beside the warehouse. The windows gleamed dull, as if someone had washed them over multiple times with the same rag. The icon paint on the doors was chipped, while paint on bricks pealed from erosion. The grass around the entrance was dead and brown, and light poles in the parking lot were broken, and remains of shattered glass were visible. Mercedes bit her jaw upon the sight, but said nothing. The car ride had been silent, not in discomfort, but in anticipation of the built-up conversation that would be had upon arriving to their date's location.

Sam parked near the front and opened his car door. He signaled to Mercedes that he would open her door as well, and at doing so, she thanked them. Making their way to the doors finally, Sam rubbed his hands together and laughed.

"What?" Mercedes questioned nervously, curious about what Sam could be thinking.

He shook his head, "I think you will enjoy this." Nearing the entrance, Sam opened one of the doors for Mercedes. Immediately inside the building was a large opening with an empty greeter's desk in the center, the room smelled stale, like it hadn't been dusted in years. The place reminded Mercedes of a center of ambiance that had once been taken care of day and night, to only fall into ruins once apathy stepped in, and there was no longer motivation to keep splendor alive. Sam guided the duo to their right, where a long, white-tiled corridor was placed. Opening the first door on the left, the two stepped into a completely white room with completely white stairs. It reminded Mercedes of a Saw movie, and she nearly asked Sam what the entire date was about. Was he into murders and executions? Because if so, Mercedes convinced herself she could bolt out of the building quick enough to rid herself of him if she started then. Swallowing her distaste, she followed Sam, who had had already begun climbing up the three flights. At the top of the stairs was an upper door, behind which resided a wildly colored carpeted room, that doubled as a suite and office space. A few chairs sat along the walls, and posters from different sporting companies littered the walls. A door in the back of the room creaked open and harsh lighting spilled into the office. In front of the door was a desk, scattered with papers, and on the wall behind and adjacent to the desk hung black and white ice skates. Inside sat two men, a tall, lanky gentleman with dark blonde hair and acne, who's nametag read 'Phillip O.', and an older, hefty man who's nametag read 'Omar W.'. Sam, who seemed familiar with both, shook Phillip's hand and hugged Omar. Phillip immediately frowned and moved one of his hands to the back of his neck anxiously.

"You're going to hate me,' he croaked, shifting glances between Omar and Sam.

Sam looked over at Mercedes before looking at Phillip, who guided Sam to the office's back door. Sam leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms, but laughed.

"We could always go swimming,' he suggested, shrugging.

Mercedes strained to hear what Phillip and Sam were saying, but relented when she felt an overwhelming feeling that someone was looking at her. Over her shoulder, she made eye contact with Omar and smiled at him, and he gave her a toothy grin back.

"Sit down, sit down,' he ushered, nodding to the seat closest to her.

Upon sitting, Mercedes offered her hand. "Hi, I'm Mercedes."

He reached over the seats, and met Mercedes's hand with a large, clammy one. "Hi, Mercedes. I'm Omar." The man had a decent face, the face of someone who was probably surprisingly handsome when he was younger. Time had done it's work on him, though. At the center of his scalp he had begun to bald, and he breathed heavily under the tight, black polo he wore. His legs were crossed in the sunken-in chair, and his hand was bereft of any ring.

"How old are you?" He asked to fill the silence.

"I'm twenty-three,' Mercedes replied, deeming it rude to ask him how old he was in return.

"Twenty-three… I remember when I was twenty-three, well, good for you. -You with Sam?"

Mercedes nodded, "This is our first time really hanging out, but,' looking at Sam, she decided, "Yeah."

"You gotta' mom, Mercedes?"

She laughed, "I do."

Omar cracked his fingers, "She look like an older version of you?" He looked Mercedes over momentarily, getting a feel for the young woman in front of him.

"She does,' Mercedes revealed.

"She married?"

Mercedes's eyes widened in thrill, but she burst into laughter before replying. Omar's face stayed completely straight, but Mercedes could not keep a calm demeanor. She liked Omar immediately, and would have been delighted to talk to him longer had not Sam signaled her over with a wisp of his fingers. Phillip stepped out of the way for Mercedes to take her place next to Sam.

"We're going to go down,' Sam told Phillip, who shot him a thumbs up. Stepping out of the back door, Sam cracked the door behind Mercedes. The area resembled the coliseum that the Legends played at, but was smaller, and there were only stadium seats on one side. Around three-hundred multi-colored seats encumbered the backside of the arena. A line of stairs descended from the door, and the seats were separated by a railing, while each side contained about ten rows. On the bottom of the right column sat an official's box, where a soundboard could be seen from their position.

Sam chose the left column to go down, and walked to the middlemost row, and sat in the center with Mercedes, who followed him.

"Am I allowed to ask where we're at now?"

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets, and threw his legs up onto the bag of the seat in front of him. "Well,' he elongated. "I thought it'd be nice to do something that we were both familiar with. I also thought you probably didn't know much about ice-skating. We come here and practice sometimes, if we talk to the guys ahead of time they'll loan us the ice for the day. - I wanted to teach you how to ice-skate, was I wrong for thinking you didn't know how to?"

"I've never ice-skated before, Sam,' Mercedes giggled.

"See, that's what I thought. I'm telepathic, I swear… They forgot to mention to me that they were refreezing the ice today."

"What does that mean?" Mercedes asked.

Sam pointed to what Mercedes had looked over before, "Unless you're Jesus, you can't walk or skate on four inches of water."

"Oh, wow,' Mercedes said, squinting her eyes. The harsh light had reflected off the water so severely, Mercedes had passed over the spot completely. She could see where the hockey markings stood under the water, and the slight ripples throughout every few seconds.

"They turn the temperature up and it melts within three hours, and then they refreeze and go over it with the Zamboni, and that part takes like six hour."

Mercedes bit at her nail, "I don't think you and I are doing any ice skating today."

Sam laughed and shook his head, "No, I don't think so either."

"It's the thought that counts, Sam. I would have really enjoyed it. You would have seen me bust my ass a couple times."

"Can't complain about that,' he hissed, Mercedes hitting him gently on the arm in faux-surprise before the two melted in a fit of laughter.

"You ice skate for a living, practically. It's not fair."

Sam crossed his arms, "Maybe we should go to a karaoke bar for our second date. You can sing some Aretha Franklin, or something. I'll sing some George Strait."

Mercedes raised her eyebrows, "What makes you think I like Aretha Franklin?"

"I don't think you like Aretha Franklin, I know you like Aretha Franklin."

Mercedes bit down a cackle building in her chest, "How do you know I like Aretha Franklin, Sam, huh?"

Sam nodded his head decidedly, "Because you know who she is."

"What does that mean?"

"Nobody has ever said they don't like Aretha Franklin, tell me one person who doesn't like her. One person!"

Mercedes doubled over in laughter, "I don't know anyone,' she confessed.

"Exactly,' Sam said, straight-faced. "They either don't know who she is or they love her, so there."

"Okay, Mr. George Strait. You have a point."

Sam nodded, "I have a tendency for making points, Mercedes."

Mercedes smiled slyly, looking over Sam. She hadn't had much time in the past to inspect him, but he looked intently ahead, so she took her chance. His hair was parted and pulled behind his ears, and he wore glasses for the first time that she'd seen. Sam's jaw was sharp enough to cut, and his pointed nose contrasted against his smooth lips that he conveniently licked every so often. Light stubble from his chin to his cheek convinced Mercedes that he had skipped out on a shave or two, but seemingly, she wouldn't mind passing her hand over his jaw in a passionate kiss, the rough texture of the scruff scraping her hand. Jade eyes made it difficult to look him in the face, and star-bright teeth offered an exhausting smile. His muscles proved even through the sweater, and something about him made Mercedes fill so small. "So about this second date…,' she finally conjured.

"About this second date,' Sam continued.

"That means you want to see me again?"

He nodded, "I feel terrible about how the first one went."

Mercedes shrugged, "This could be fun, sometimes just talking is enough."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, looking over at Mercedes and smiling lightly.

"Yeah,' she replied. "I'm sure the girls you usually take out want to go for a fancy dinner or a night at the art museum."

Sam smirked, "Girls don't like me, I'm actually amazed you were willing to see me."

"Sam Evans, you are crazy, girls love you."

He shrugged, "Nobody ever takes, we go out on a few dates and then they're no longer starstruck by me. I'm like a one-hit-wonder."

Giggling, Mercedes asked, "What does that one-hit imply?"

"Oh,' Sam grimaced, wagging a finger at Mercedes. "Bad girl, that is not first date conversation material."

"Second date?" Mercedes asked, watching Sam.

He nodded and gave her a thumbs up, "Definitely, second date."

"You are really an enigma, has anyone ever told you that?"

Sam shook his head and stuttered in laughter, "No, Mercedes. Nobody has ever used that word to describe me."

Mercedes's cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much, but she couldn't help but to laugh with Sam. Everything came so easily with him, and she felt an overwhelming since of fortune. Unnamed inhibitions of her's caused her to pray silently that she was not being duped, and that Sam's affections were true. She liked the idea that he rarely went on dates, but could it be true? Could a guy as funny, as sweet, as charming, as Sam Evans really be interested in her?

Mercedes resolved to gulping down her fears, and slid closer to Sam and reached to hold his hand. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, smiled, and ran his thumb over her painted nails. Sam's hand was much bigger than Mercedes, but neither could deny that their hands seemed to fit perfectly into each other's. He kept talking, and she kept listening, and occasionally Mercedes would talk, and Sam would listen. Their communication went back and forth like a game of tennis, but a ball was never missed. Both made sure not to push to hard, in fear that they might fall too quick, but Mercedes could already imagine a third date and a fourth, a month from then, then a year. She didn't know if Sam felt it too, but there was undeniable chemistry between them. Who else would she have sat in an empty ice rink with for three hours?

"If we stay any longer we might freeze before the ice,' Sam finally said, looking at his watch.

"It is pretty cold, do you want to go?" Mercedes asked, lifting her purse from the ground.

Sam nodded and stood, helping Mercedes up, and letting her guide the two from out of the rink. Mercedes pushed the office's door back to reveal Omar and Phillip still sitting lazily in the office, Omar counting bills in his corner.

"Did the ice freeze over yet?" Phillip asked. Mercedes turned around quickly to see how far Sam was behind her, and was softly staggered upon seeing him only an inch away from her.

Pressing against Mercedes, if only to nudge her further into the office, Sam replied, "Not even close."

Phillip nodded unenthusiastically, "Looks like we're not getting out of here until dark."

Omar grunted, and looked up at Mercedes and Sam.

"You two headin' out?"

Mercedes nodded, walking forward to the exit. "Thanks for letting us sit…'

"No problem,' Omar said, waving at the couple before they disappeared from the office. Sam closed the door behind them, and trodded down the stairs. Back in the same white-tiled hallway, Mercedes looked over to Sam and opened her palm.

"Keys."

"What?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow.

"Sam, for your and my safety, I think I should drive us back to my apartment. Don't be offended, but you suck. Like, you're terrible at driving."

Sam, appalled, took his truck keys from his pocket and handed them over to Mercedes. "Damn, I'm hurt,' he said finally.

Mercedes laughed, but didn't turn around as they exited. It riddled her that she had lived in Ohio her entire life, but had never known about Everey Athletics. Unsure if she'd ever be back, she looked over her shoulder at the dilapidated sign and smiled. When they arrived to the truck, Mercedes took a giant step in order to get into the truck. Starting the ignition, she adjusted her seat and the mirrors to better suit herself. Sam looked over at the woman and smiled softly, unbothered by the fact that he'd have to readjust everything again shortly.

"Do you have any sunglasses?" Mercedes asked.

Sam pointed his finger at Mercedes and nodded, "Good plan." He reached into a compartment above the rearview mirror, and plucked out a pair of sunglasses. Handing them to Mercedes, he watched her put them on and smiled.

"You look good in them, keep them."

"Really?' Mercedes asked.

Sam nodded and shut the compartment, "You just owe me in kisses or something, I don't know."

Mercedes released a cackle, "Okay, Sam,' she said matter-of-factly. Turning on the radio, she shifted through channels, before pulling away. "Would it be funny if we accidentally stumbled over some Aretha Franklin?"

Sam looked at Mercedes, saying nothing, he reached over and turned the radio off.

Mercedes nodded in defeat, but giggled still. She pulled out of the parking lot quickly, and took the highway back to her apartment. Mercedes referred to herself as a 'speed-demon', she could never remember a time she had actually followed the speed limit. She had many driving tickets, but she never learned her lesson. Sam joked about his chest 'getting concaved', but Mercedes knew her driving was better than his by at least tenfold. The two got back to the apartments safely, and in record time. The two parted from their seats, but met in front of the truck.

"I had fun,' Mercedes admitted, pulling the sunglasses down so that they hung by her jaw.

"Me too,' Sam said, smiling down at Mercedes. "We should do it again sometime."

"Go on a date or go speed racing?"

"I'd do either one with you,' Sam said, pulling Mercedes in for a hug. Wrapping her arms around him, she smiled into his chest, and looked up at him after. "Are you going to pay me back?' Sam asked astutely.

"For what?' Mercedes questioned. Sam glanced down at the sunglasses, and Mercedes shook her head and laughed.

"You're relentless."

Sam nodded, "I go after what I want."

"Is that right, Sam Evans?" Mercedes asked, waiting for Sam to nod again before lifting up on her toes and placing her lips between his for a small kiss. Mercedes began to pull away, but Sam reached again for a soft peck before jogging back in hysterics when Mercedes moved to slap his arm with her purse.

" _I GO AFTER WHAT I WANT!_ " He reiterated, doubling over in laughter, hitting his thighs.

Mercedes laughed too, "I better get another pair of sunglasses the next time I see you."

Sam walked over to his truck and opened the door, he shifted for a few seconds in the door's compartment before revealing another pair of sunglasses. He handed them to Mercedes from around the car door, while doing his best not to laugh anymore. Mercedes playfully snatched the glasses and tossed them in her purse, "I will think about forgiving you."

"I hope so, I really like those sunglasses."

Mercedes nodded and gave Sam a silly face, "They look better on me."

"They do,' Sam replied, shrugging. "Serious note, when can I see you again?"

Mercedes smiled deviously, beginning to walk away from Sam. "When do you want to see me again, Sammy?"

"Today, tomorrow, the next day, the next day, the next week,' he continued on, Mercedes getting further and further away. "The next month, the next year, the next life. Forever."

 **Three weeks later…**

January was the mid-season mark, though the exhibition game usually took place during September, and if the Legends made it to finals they played during April, the general season lasted from October to March. Playoffs looked likely, as the Legends were second to only the Elysburg Eagles. They hadn't played the Eagles yet, and wouldn't until March. During her two month stay with the Legends, Mercedes had done her best to involve herself with everything supported by the team. At the end of the December she had scheduled a toy delivery from the Lima Legends to a local adoption home. She had joined the Legends Booster Club and designated a few meet and greets during the season. She had planned one at Breadstix in January specifically to celebrate the team's halfway mark. Everyone from the Booster Club was invited as well as anyone who followed any Legends social media.

Sebastian didn't want to go to the meet and greet, but he did his best to support Mercedes's new ideas for the team, and if that included going to Breadstix, then he'd do it. Breadstix was one of the team's biggest corporate sponsors, and they delivered food for the players almost every game. Sebastian had inhaled more Breadstix breadsticks in his life than the owners of Breadstix probably had. He had never physically sat down and eaten at Breadstix, but he knew the entire Breadstix experience. It was the last place he wanted to go. Figuring that the best way to convince Will that Mercedes knew what she was doing, and that she had prospered under his lead, he usually backed her up when she brought ideas to the front of the house, and attended anything she planned for the back.

"You look like you're ready to get wasted at the trashiest restaurant in Lima. I'm sorry, but I can't promise my role as the designated driver."

Mercedes raised her eyebrow at Sebastian, "Nobody is getting wasted tonight, Sebastian, sorry to rain on your parade."

"I dance in the rain- what do you mean 'nobody is getting wasted'? Going anywhere with me increases the chance of intoxication exponentially,' Sebastian crossed his arms.

"There will be children there, and I thought you were sober?"

"I lied,' he confessed.

Mercedes shook her head and shut off the computer, "I thought you were a good, wholesome boy."

"How you,' Sebastian slinked over to Mercedes. "Have been deceived. - Really, what are you up to later? I want to show you a few places."

Mercedes smiled at Sebastian, taking his words as an extension of kindness. She had been looking for an excuse to divulge about Sam, and finally saw the opportunity. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that."

Sebastian stopped momentarily, tilting his head. He parted his lips and raised his eyebrows, "Boyfriend?"

"Swear you won't say anything,' Mercedes whispered. Sebastian nodded lightly, his lips still spread.

"I went out with Sam a couple of week ago, and we've been talking since. We've gone on a couple of dates, his parents actually came up for Christmas, and I met them. It was really spontaneous, but I like it. It's all new,' Mercedes beamed.

Sebastian finally blinked and his face flushed red, his internal state of confusion tempting him to immediately begin to recant Mercedes's developed affections. "You're dating one of the players?"

Mercedes nodded shortly.

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows, palming his mind for words that would not come. Eventually, he laughed, "Are you an idiot?"

"What?" Mercedes asked, her air changing in seconds.

"I mean, have you heard anything any of those players have said all season? They want sex, Mercedes. That is all they want, they don't care about hockey, they don't care about the money. They want to get laid. I thought you were smart enough to see through that,' Sebastian said in hysterics, unsure of how to blend anger and raw humor.

"Sam isn't like that,' Mercedes said, shaking her head and standing.

Sebastian sneered, "Oh, yeah? We'll see what Will says."

"Sebastian, you wouldn't."

He shrugged, "Try me."

Mercedes ran her hand through her hair, and looked back at Sebastian to see if he was joking. Nothing in his countenance read comically. "This isn't just about some silly rule you guys have about protecting me, this is my job, Sebastian. This is my life."

Sebastian frowned, he stood unmoved and said nothing.

"What can I say? I'm begging you, please don't say anything."

"Mercedes,' Sebastian laughed. "In the words of Eddie Murphy, who I'm sure you and the rest of your relatives are familiar with, 'What have you done for me lately'?"

Mercedes shook her head. "You are really a piece of work,' she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Sebastian asked, putting a finger to his ear. "I couldn't hear you."

Mercedes pulled her purse to her arm, "I will do anything, Sebastian." Mercedes could feel tears welling up in her eyes, "Please, just don't say anything."

"Anything?" Sebastian asked, stepping back in amazement.

Mercedes glared at Sebastian roughly, but nodded lightly.

Sebastian clapped his hands together in satisfaction, "My lips are sealed, scout's honor." Mercedes moved from behind her desk quickly, pushing back Sebastian to get out of the office.

"Take care of yourself, Mercedes. We wouldn't want you getting hurt,' Mercedes heard as the door shut behind her. She rushed to her car quickly and threw her purse in the passenger seat. She gripped the steering wheel, and screamed in the car. Sebastian had not hurt her enough for her to fall into stitches, but Mercedes did wipe away a few angry tears from her eyes. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and sent Sam a quick text message.

 **[Sent at 5:29 P.M.]:** Don't talk to me at the meet and greet, I'll explain later

Sam replied almost instantly.

 **[Received at 5:30 P.M.]:** Did something bad happen?

 **[Received at 5:30 P.M.]:** Do you still want me to come over afterwards

 **[Sent at 5:31 P.M.]:** No, nothing happened. I will talk to you about it when you come over, yes.

Dropping her phone in her lap, Mercedes pulled out of the parking lot and drove over to Breadstix. Something in her wanted to call Santana and invite her to the restaurant to talk about Sebastian the fiend, but she knew Santana would raise hell, and a lot of people would end up in trouble. Mercedes settled on biting the anger until she could talk with Sam. When she arrived to Breadstix, she was relieved to see a good turnout, and she instantly took a seat in a booth near the back of the restaurant. She watched a few of the players linger around, and quickly noted Sam's head. And Sebastian's.

Sam looked over and winked at Mercedes, but followed her instructions to stay away.

 **[Received at 6:10 P.M.]:** You look super hot

 **[Sent at 6:10 P.M.]:** You are crazy lol

 **[Sent at 6:11 P.M.]:** You look super hot too

Mercedes looked up and smiled when a waitress approached her, but waved the woman away. Mercedes felt too sick to eat, and was instead more pressed about leaving Breadstix. She watched as Sam spoke with an older lady who was excited to get a photo with the young man. Sam bent down very close to the woman's ear and talked loud enough for her to hear in return. Afterwards, he turned to pick up a set of tiny twin girls who were amazed by his hair, and had proceeded to braid it. Their mother apologized over and over, but Sam giggled along with the girls and assured that it was all okay. Mercedes wished she could be near him and hear the words in the conversation, but she knew she was skating on thin ice now. Her blood boiling, she eyed Sebastian, who as usual, was sitting with a beer, talking to a few of the hockey players. Mercedes knew one of them was Nathan Elias, but the other man seemed unfamiliar. Crossing her arms, she sunk into the booth and swiped through her phone.

"You're way too pretty to be sitting over here so upset."

Mercedes looked up to see Windsor, the team's captain. He was a staggering 6'5, and had jet black hair and light stubble. With bright blue eyes, he seemed to be the true gem of the team, but a crooked nose, damaged after a misguided puck, left few suitors. Mercedes sat back up and reached over to shake his hand, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, Sorry,' he shook back. "I'm Bentley."

As Bentley sat in the seat in front of her, Mercedes pushed herself back into the seat and smiled lightly. "I'm Mercedes,' she assured.

"I've seen you around a bit, in the office mainly. You always look so busy, I don't bother to stop." Bentley had a baritone voice, and Mercedes had to strain to hear him. She sat straight up, but did not do much to impress, as not only did her significant other stand twenty feet away, but so did someone she now considered a foe…

"They keep me on my toes. Sorry that this is the first time we're being introduced."

"That's the second time you've apologized, what are you guilty of?" Bentley laughed.

Mercedes shrugged, "Telling too much information to the wrong person."

Bentley frowned, "I've got a feeling you learned your lesson the first time, and now you aren't going to tell me all the juicy gossip. I will say, I can keep a pretty good secret."

Mercedes nodded, Bentley had a drowning sense of fatherhood, and she immediately trusted him enough to indulge, if only shallowly. "I'm in a position where I'm at someone's mercy, and I don't ever like feeling like I don't have the upper hand."

Bentley nodded, expecting more information.

"I let someone I trusted know about something secret, and they used it against me."

Bentley shrugged, "Maybe they're jealous?"

Mercedes shook her head, "I doubt it."

"No, a lot of times we doubt that someone is jealous of us, and that's exactly the thing. They are either jealous of what you have or who you are. You're a beautiful girl, I bet she's jealous about how laid your edges are… is that a thing people still say?"

Mercedes laughed and nodded, "Yes, people still say that."

"Good, I don't stay in the lingo. People don't talk like that in Alberta."

Mercedes looked over at Sebastian, "I told a guy friend about a relationship I'm in, and he threatened to tell someone that can make that relationship very difficult for me… I don't want to say names, but if you understand…'

Bentley nodded, "Who is it?" He surveyed the room and crossed his arms.

"Sam,' Mercedes whispered, almost inaudibly. Both her and Bentley's eyes landed on Sam at the same time, who was in the middle of talking to Sebastian. The two were laughing incredibly hard and looking at something on Sebastian's phone.

"Sam's a good boy. Sebastian… he's honest with everyone but himself."

"What do you mean?" Mercedes asked, looking away from Sebastian and Sam, and back to Bentley.

"Have you told Sam about it yet?"

Mercedes shook her head, "No."

Bentley ran his hand across his jaws, "Don't."

Mercedes laughed and shook her head again, "Why?"

"I think you're gonna figure out why Sebastian did what he did. Play it cool for now, but soon this is all going to make sense to you. You're going to be surprised that you didn't understand when it happened,' Bentley stood and began to back away, "I'm going to leave you to think on it, it was nice talking to you, Mercedes. Have a lovely night."

Bentley walked away before Mercedes could ask anymore questions, but she found herself feeling more desolate than she had in the first place.

She watched Sebastian and Sam hazily, and upon her given advice, decided not to tell Sam about what happened. She didn't want to burden him with the stress of keeping their relationship a secret, and she realized her anger came from not having someone to spill the information with. Just telling Bentley about the ordeal had made Mercedes feel less upset. She could not deny his leadership skills, and was not at all surprised by the fact that he was captain.

 **[Received at 6:34 P.M.]:** What did Bent want?

 **[Sent at 6:39 P.M.]:** He just wanted to introduce himself… are you having fun?

 **[Sent at 6:40 P.M]:** Go play with the little girls again, they're adorable

 **[Received at 6:42 P.M.]:** I do my best to avoid playing w little girls at all costs, sorry

 **[Sent at 6:43 P.M.]:** BYE

A basket of breadsticks dropped on the table, and Sebastian stood in front of Mercedes with one knee in the seat and one hand grabbing for a breadstick.

 _"Where's your boyfriend, Mercedes?"_ He asked boldly.

Mercedes wanted to curse the man out, but she knew he had new information about her, and she feared he would use it against her. She had trusted Sebastian, but now he felt even colder than he did when they had first met. "I don't know,' Mercedes muttered under her breath. She sat her phone on the table, but it quickly vibrated again.

 **[Received at 6:45 P.M.]:** Some of the guys want to hang out, I can't make it over. Sorry, babe

 **[Received at 6:45 P.M.]:** I'll make it up to you

Mercedes sat her phone back on the table, sighing heavily.

"Canceled plans?" Sebastian asked, sliding into the booth and eating another breadstick.

Mercedes smirked sarcastically, "All-knowing Sebastian, how did you know?"

"What'd he tell you?"

"That some of the guys want to hang out…' she trailed.

Sebastian laughed, "I know because they invited me too."

"Are you going?" Mercedes asked, plucking one of the breadsticks from the basket and ripping it in half.

Sebastian shook his head, "I can only be fake for so long."

"What does that mean? You love Sam."

Sebastian shrugged, "The geniality has cooled, something about dating my coworker has lessened the affection."

Mercedes watched a few of the hockey players begin to trail out of restaurant, Sam included.

"So, why were you over there talking to him and laughing like you hadn't seen him in years?"

"It's all imitation, Mercedes,' Sebastian watched Sam walk out as well.

"You might hate me, but I want you to know that even I would never leave you alone somewhere…' He continued when he saw that Mercedes would not speak, "I would never cancel so abruptly, and even in the present tense, _I will never hurt you._ I'm not going to tell Will or Tyler, okay?"

Mercedes looked at Sebastian momentarily, "I'm not alone."

Sebastian sighed, "In a dismal, realistic, Nietzsche sense, we're all alone, are we not?"

As he promised her, Sebastian didn't leave Mercedes alone. The two sat together until 10, when the final players and fans left. They sat in complete silence, both too hurt to say much, _too confused._

* * *

 **There is going to be another time jump next chapter, but it's going to be a lot bigger than the one featured in this chapter. So, quick question to any readers willing to answer: Do we like Sebastian? Why or why not? Did this chapter distort your impression of him or do you agree with what Bentley said? - Thanks for reading, thanks for answering, and don't forget to review, favorite, follow, and share! Thank you.**


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter was uploaded on April 10, 2016. Upon distaste with the ending of the chapter, it was deleted and edited to it's current format. For anyone who read the chapter before it's takedown, paragraphs 1-56 remain unchanged.**

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 **APRIL AUBADE - SYLVIA PLATH**

 _ **Worship this world of watercolor mood**_

 _ **in glass pagodas hung with veils of green**_

 _ **where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood**_

 _ **and sap ascends the steeple of the vein.**_

 _ **A saintly sparrow jargons madrigals**_

 _ **to waken dreamers in the milky dawn,**_

 _ **while tulips bow like a college of cardinals**_

 _ **before that papal paragon, the sun.**_

 _ **Christened in a spindrift of snowdrop stars,**_

 _ **where on pink-fluted feet the pigeons pass**_

 _ **and jonquils sprout like solomon's metaphors,**_

 _ **my love and I go garlanded with grass.**_

 _ **Again we are deluded and infer**_

 _ **that somehow we are younger than we were.**_

* * *

February and March ensued coldly, any built bond between Mercedes and Sebastian dissipating. The formerly friendly duo only spoke to each other in riddles and schemes, with the occasional lash of tongues or threat. They ignored any amity previously formed, acted as if they weren't so close before. So close in fact that Mercedes had crashed at Sebastian's apartment in December when the two decided to watch one of the away games on his laptop. She'd woken up with her head on Sebastian's shoulder and his arm around her's. They didn't speak of it then, in fact, they never spoke of it. Instead they walked on eggshells in the office and waited for the opportunity to critique each other. Tyler and Will noticed the difference and opted to avoid conversation with Mercedes and Sebastian both. They didn't want Mercedes to feel isolated when they invited Sebastian to chat, but they had never had much to talk about with her anyway. Now that Mercedes and Sebastian refused to be in the same room with each other for long, they didn't have any excuse to talk to her. Business went as usual, but long nights in the office ceased, along with revealing conversations about players, drinks after work, and jokes about sponsors. All together, Mercedes regretted telling Sebastian about her relationship with Sam. Sebastian had kept his word about keeping the relationship a secret, but after the night at Breadstix, he never treated her the same.

Sebastian looked down on Mercedes each time he got a chance, and if she was bold enough to speak to him, he never missed the chance to mention all the girls he had slept with in his free time. He had a complex of envy, he always wanted to one-up her or make her jealous. Mercedes had never noticed the quality until after the meet and greet, not even when she was new to the office. Something about Sam and her's relationship rubbed him the wrong way, Mercedes knew that. What is was, she didn't know. Upon prodding, Sam had mentioned he hadn't hung out with Sebastian lately. Mercedes felt like she was the reason the office was so quiet recently, as well as the reason Sam and Sebastian were no longer friends. But what Mercedes had with Sam felt real. The way he kissed her hand each time he held it, how he texted her each time she left his apartment to make sure she got home safely. Mercedes wasn't experienced in relationships, but she knew Sam was what most girls could only dream of. He was nice, he was attractive, and he really cared for her. Mercedes deemed the romance a 'once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity'; she wouldn't let an upset coworker ruin it for her. Stomaching anxiety daily, she went into work with a brave face. It was a good day if Sebastian said nothing to her.

Mercedes could already see what type of day it would be upon walking in.

"Mercedes!' Will shouted, smiling with a clenched jaw. He clapped his hands together and signaled the young woman in, "Just the person I was looking for!"

Tyler stood near the office's entrance way, a cup from Starbucks looming inches away from his face. His gaze switched between Will, Mercedes, and Sebastian slowly, before he stuck his open hand up in surrender and crept out of the office.

"What's going on, Will?" Mercedes asked, inching further into her office to her desk. She looked over the scene; Will was picking up paper from the printer, and Sebastian was red in the face; Mercedes could tell he had been running his hands through his hair. He did that when he was stressed.

Will smiled lightly, "Tyler and Coach are heading out to talk and recruit some local players, we think the job will be curtailed if you and Sebastian can help out."

Mercedes shrugged. "I've got no problem helping out with paperwork,' she offered. "You know that."

Sebastian shook his head, warning her to listen further. Will laughed lightly and picked the copies from off the printer, he knew the ice he skated on. "We've got playoffs this weekend, we didn't expect to make it this far again. We scheduled with some of the colleges this week, but Coach needs to be in-house as much as possible….' he waned.

Mercedes shrugged inquisitively.

Sebastian finally sighed heavily and closed the gap. "He wants us to go out to Lima U tomorrow."

Mercedes's eyes widened, "Both of us?"

Will nodded, "Come on, guys. It'll be fun, I've talked to the coach already. I just need you both out there to talk to some of the players, watch them practice, talk to the coach. Bring us back names, so that we can talk to the coach and bring the guys out for try-outs this summer. It's a two-man job. Tyler and I can take the other schools Wednesday and Thursday, we need you guys tomorrow, though."

"Nobody else can do it?" Sebastian asked, rushing his hands down his pockets and leaning on the wall. It was visible that he didn't want to do the job, especially not with Mercedes.

Will shook his head, "It's got to be you two… Can I count on you guys?"

Mercedes shrugged and nodded. Sebastian, reluctantly, nodded in surrender. Will slapped Sebastian's hand for a high-five and drifted back into his office, shutting his door.

Sebastian looked at Mercedes shortly, and opened his mouth to say something. He relented, and instead walked into his office and shut the door.

With very few calls coming in and mostly everything shutting down due to the end of the season, Mercedes could afford to leave work early. Usually, she went to Sam's apartment or he came to her's. They'd have dinner and watch a movie, if they were at Sam's they'd engage in a thirty minute debate on whether they'd watch hockey or play video games. Mercedes always had the upper hand in arguments, and for that reason the couple never played video games. Sometimes one thing led to another, and they'd end up making-out for hours, and finally passed out somewhere on a couch or the floor.

Work, however, was never a dinner topic. Mercedes had let Sam know that their relationship was, for lack of better words, 'against the rules'. He respected that, and on Lima Legends property, stayed at bay. Mercedes did find herself giddy about the next day's events, however.

"Sebastian and I are going to Lima U tomorrow to scout, call me Troop Leader Jones."

Sam shook his head, "That was so bad."

"So bad, I know,' Mercedes giggled. "No, really. I'm kind of excited, I don't know."

"I want to go, find out who's going to be on the team next year."

Mercedes agreed, "I wish you could come too. Then I wouldn't be stuck with Cold Miser, Mr. Smythe, himself."

Sam spoke with a piece of bread lodged in his mouth, "I thought you liked Sebastian."

Mercedes nodded, a lie. She had never mentioned the incident in January to Sam. Firstly, she didn't want to ruin his and Sebastian's friendship. Secondly, she didn't want Sam worrying about their relationship. Sebastian had already promised he wouldn't do anything with the information, there was no reason to scare Sam or add to the already unstable territory of their 'forbidden' romance. Thirdly, Bentley had warned Mercedes not to tell Sam. Bentley's words came to Mercedes like an omen, and she'd kept her mouth shut thereafter. "I do, I just…' she trailed and shrugged. "I would like it more with you."

"Aw,' Sam fawned. "That's sweet,' he said, leaning over and kissing Mercedes gently on the lips.

Mercedes pulled back from Sam with a smile, "So, what will it be tonight? Hockey or hockey?" Sam's apartment meant no romantic chick-flicks, so Mercedes settled with watching hockey.

"I was thinking Call of Duty,' Sam suggested softly, placing his plate on the table beside his couch.

Mercedes shook her head slowly, Sam sighing and turning the television to a Flyers/Hurricanes game.

"Oh, yay!' Mercedes beamed, clasping her hands together. "I love the Hurricanes."

Sam looked at Mercedes from the corner of his eye, "You love Lindholm, I bet you don't even know what 'PPG' means."

"Shhhh,' Mercedes whispered, pushing her pointer finger against Sam's lips as the network's camera zoomed in on red-cheeked, long-haired, Swedish center, Elias Lindholm. Sam rolled his eyes as his girlfriend fawned, but she carefully treaded, "He kind of looks like you."

The Hurricanes fell to the Flyers during a shootout, though Mercedes and Sam were clueless regarding the results. A lingering hand underneath Sam's shirt during the third period had tipped the dominos, and by the games end, they were sprawled out on the floor in moans. Elias Lindholm was a non-factor.

The next day, Sebastian and Mercedes made plans to meet at Lima U at six p.m. Practice started at six, and they'd be there in time to talk with the coach and get a list of the players and their numbers. The conversation was cordial, at most. Sebastian wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. He made it very clear to Mercedes that they weren't going as friends, but as coworkers. They'd do their job and leave. Mercedes agreed, she didn't want to be there anymore than he did. Or so she said. In reality, Mercedes missed Sebastian.

Sometimes she watched him look at his phone and laugh, she wondered who must have been texting. Who had made him laugh? She wanted to ask, better yet, she wanted to be the one bringing a smile to his lips. Sebastian was funny, and after he warmed up, he was a good friend. Mercedes had built a relationship with Rachel and Santana, yes, but there was something different about her and Sebastian's friendship. She wished he had not shown his true colors in January, she wished he was something that he was not.

Sebastian's anger lingered, however. He would not be taken with her.

Lima University was a small, 4-year college with a popular sports program. The ice department on campus wasn't difficult to locate, and Mercedes arrived with a few minutes to spare. Sebastian, however, was already present and staring at his watch when she arrived.

" _Fun_ ,' he loomed. "You decided to show up. I thought you may have lost track of time during your nightly meal of fried chicken and collard greens, or whatever it is that keeps your lips so glossy."

Mercedes's jaw dropped, but before she could give a sassy retort, Sebastian was opening the door and leaving her behind. She followed closely, hand on her hip. She wanted to ask, 'Why are you being so mean?', but knowing Sebastian, he'd laugh and ignore the question. So smug.

The doors led into an open lobby that broke off into two sections of ice, blocked off by glass panels and doors. One door revealed ice for the ice skating team, and the other for the hockey team. White reflective tiles surrounded both entry ways; Mercedes and Sebastian headed for a thin glass door that read, 'Lima University Hockey'. Inside, similar to Everley's Athletics, contained seating for fans and spectators. A man with a thick mustache and a windbreaker stood inside the team's benches across the ice. He waved at Mercedes and Sebastian shortly before crossing the ice to meet them.

He shook Sebastian's hand firmly, "Hey, boy. I'm Earl Whittaker, I coach the hockey team."

Sebastian gripped the man's hand back firmly. "Sebastian Smythe, marketing and sales director. Good to meet you."

Earl smiled lightly, and glanced over to Mercedes, expecting to be introduced. Sebastian glanced over, as well, but said nothing. He stared at Mercedes, waiting for her to introduce herself.

"I'm Mercedes,' she said, extending her hand. Mercedes rolled her eyes internally, but offered a fake smile to the coach.

"Hi, Mercedes,' the coach began. He informed Mercedes and Sebastian of Lima University's hockey history, and eventually produced a crumbled roster from his pocket. He had highlighted a few names, players to watch for. As players began to trickle out onto the ice, he pointed to a spot above the benches were Mercedes and Sebastian could sit and watch. Mercedes smiled and thanked him, and made her way to the seats with Sebastian following a few steps behind.

Slumping down into his designated seat, Sebastian pushed a pen off to Mercedes, threw his feet on the seat in front of him, and pulled out his phone.

"Are you not going to do your job?" Mercedes asked stiffly, sitting a seat away from Sebastian and watching the players board the ice.

"Why would I do my job when you can do it for me?" He asked, completely engrossed in his phone.

"I'm not going to do all the work, Sebastian."

"Fine,' he said, plucking the roster from out of Mercedes's hand, and folding it back into it's original creases. "We won't do it at all." He tossed the roster in his lap and returned to his phone.

"I wish I could say your lack of any work ethic is surprising."

"I wish I could say your surplus of hair grease is surprising,' Sebastian shrugged. "It's not."

"Now, hold up,' Mercedes raised a finger to the man. "I'll have you know, there is not one stitch of hair grease anywhere in my head-,'

"Congratulations,' Sebastian sat his phone down in his lap. "Did you use real chicken grease this time?"

"You know what,' Mercedes said, biting her lip, "I'm done." She picked her purse up and stepped over Sebastian, preparing to leave.

Sebastian cleared his throat, "Mercedes,' he voiced, causing the woman to turn around. He used his hand to wan her back to the seat, "Why are you so easily offended? It was a joke, _just… sit down_."

Mercedes bit her jaw, looking Sebastian up and down. She stepped back over to her seat and sat her purse on the ground. She could see that all of the players were on the ice, skating around the perimeter for warm-ups. A few of them noted Sebastian and Mercedes in the stands, and showed off when they neared the two. Sebastian was still enthralled with his phone, but Mercedes did her best to watch the players and recognize their ability. They wore their game jerseys, more than likely so that their names would be visible. Try-outs for the Legends were open, but occasionally players got invited to join, and said players had better opportunities of making the cut. Mercedes realized that her opinion could mean someone's career, she though carefully, and made mental notes when she could. Soon the players were lined up for a scrimmage, and a puck was being pushed down the ice.

The loosely-folded roster sat unmoved in Sebastian's lap; he was no longer texting vivaciously, his head instead propped up by his hand, watching the players lazily.

"Are there any players you like so far?"

Sebastian shrugged, "I get paid either way."

Mercedes furrowed her eyebrows, "Do you just shy away from the idea of having any true conversation with me, or do you genuinely not care about the Legends and whether they win or not?"

Sebastian frowned in thought before releasing a giant sigh, "You'll have to get back to me on that one."

Mercedes chuckled lightly, shoving her hands between her thighs to avoid reaching over and grabbing Sebastian by the neck.

"The players whose names are highlighted are the ones doing the best,' he finally admitted after a few minutes. "I am paying attention." Sebastian handed the sheet over to Mercedes gently, "Their goalies are both really good, but they aren't better than McLaurin or Holm, so there's no point in really looking into them."

Mercedes opened the paper and quickly discovered that each player she had been keeping an eye on already had their name highlighted. She rolled her eyes, somehow Sebastian always had a way of out-doing her. He always wore a smug grin, like he knew his worth. He knew he was attractive and tall, moody and brooding, big and intimidating, yet gentle and lukewarm. Everything about him warned forbearance, but something about his eyes begged return.

His sunglasses sat pushed back on his head, and light stubble had grown from the absence of a razor for a day or two. A thin gray jacket covered a navy blue shirt he wore, over khakis and a pair of tan, canvas shoes. Mercedes had, purposely, gone the same route in terms of casuality. A pair of black leggings hid under an army green crop top, a black windbreaker, and all-white converses. The two looked more like curious college students sitting in on a practice, rather than business people that held the players' futures in their hands.

Sebastian, still, watched the players' movement, watched Mercedes's movements, and bit his fingernails nervously. It was a habit he was trying to break, he'd read enough articles describing how unprofessional it was and how it was ' _a sign of weakness_ '. He did agree that it was a sign of weakness on some front, he tried to be in control of everything. He couldn't control the lack of air in his chest or the butterflies in his stomach. But he could ease the side effects by biting his nails, by letting himself show a bit of vulnerability, whether anyone else would define it as such or not. He watched Mercedes reply to a few texts from Sam every few minute, but said nothing to add any more tension to the situation. He wasn't there to be cordial either, so he avoided small talk.

The players eventually skated off the ice and the coach came to Mercedes and Sebastian to send them away.

"I hope you two were impressed,' he indulged immediately.

"Completely,' Mercedes nodded. "You've got an awesome group of guys, how many of them are seniors?"

"Only two, we're keeping most of them on, luckily."

Mercedes continued in conversation with Earl, Sebastian occasionally feigning interest. He was, admittedly, uninterested in Lima University's hockey team. He was, however, interested in Mercedes's eagerness.

She was one for the dramatics, often using her hands to illustrate a picture her words couldn't. She was much brighter than the people around her, painted in watercolor. She contrasted Sebastian brilliantly, the latter a simple penciled sketch in a lost artist's drawing book. He was shades of gray, Mercedes was a myriad of running colors. Disheartened when the conversation took it's end, and even more so when Mercedes took her's.

He couldn't say much, he was too angry. Too angry that he worshipped the world of watercolor mood, that she had chosen the more of the two. Disheartened that Mercedes would leave the monochromatic page of erases to be with who she deserved.

* * *

 **For clearance- Mercedes and Sam haven't consummated the relationship yet. The final three chapters will be a whirlwind. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for the ride. Remember to favorite, follow, review, and share. Can't wait to see your reactions.**


	6. Chapter 6

In a surprising turnout, the Lima Legends swept the Elysburg Eagles and the Newark Noise in round one and two of playoffs. Players like Evans, Mendes, and Graham, #24, were recognized for being valuable to the team's wins. A few of the players even qualified for the league's 'Rookie of the Year' team and the all-star team; both having no real grounds except to boost qualifications on certain players resumes and to attract the attention of a lone recruiter. On a winning streak, and maybe too cocky for their own good, the Lima Legends fell to the Charleston Chasers in the long haul. The league's playoffs were best-of-three, the Legends and Chasers having it no other way but to land back in Charleston for game three. After a scoreless and bloody regulation, McLaurin, who was in the net due to an injury on Holm's end, let in a goal from the opposing team in the sudden-death five minute overtime. Having been in Charleston, there was no consolation when the crowds went up in mighty cheers, and the Chasers skated to center ice to hold up their goal-scorer. McLaurin frowned and threw his stick onto the ice as a few players came and patted him on the back. The men, in tradition, lined up to shake hands with the Chasers, their true emotions held blindingly in their stomachs. The Lima Legends had, admittedly, a wonderful season. Charleston was a longstanding champion in the league, and for the Legends to have made it to the finals again in their new career was impressive. Coach Cooter was gentle with the players when they got back onto the bus, a short, but motivational pep talk given on the ride back to the airport. The players stayed silent, some going ahead and booking their flights for home since the season was over. A few shed anger-felt tears, while others simply slept. The end of the season meant that the players were all going home, and Mercedes's job would soon morph into mostly desk work. There wasn't much use to have four people in the office during the off-season anyway, and Mercedes assumed that she probably wouldn't be getting called in as much as she liked. More than likely, she'd be working a part-time job, and attempting to fit that around her schedule with the Legends. And when she was in the office, she'd be stuck with Sebastian, no surcease or relief from wandering players or fans until late summer. Upon that realization, and hoping to spend as much time with Sam as possible before he went back to Kentucky for the summer, Mercedes took a week off of work for some relaxation time. She was confident that Sam would be one of the few that the team saved for the next year's season, and didn't fret or bother him for more input. A few players were getting called up or knocked down, and only eight players could remain on the same team as their prior season. Windsor was the only person Mercedes knew was going to the NHL, mainly because he had began signing contracts halfway through the season. Most players didn't start the contract-signing process until their season was done, so that any recruiters would see their best scoring at the end of the season. It was, however, very clear that Windsor was too good for the Lima Legends, and no surprise when he signed-on to become a free-agent for the New Jersey Devils. Sam, in Mercedes's opinion, was still working to become the best player he could be. She didn't like to think of the future much, but she convinced herself that, if he'd have her, if he made it to a higher league in the next few years, she'd follow after him. Pushing that bittersweet possibility away, she spent late nights at Sam's apartment, watching movies and eating in. In a surprising turn of events, the Carolina Hurricanes, Mercedes's favorite team, and the Boston Bruins, Sam's favorite team in the eastern conference, had made it to the Eastern Conference play-offs. A few times, a couple of Legend's players came over to watch a game with the couple, always unsurprised by the relationship.

"I knew it," Claimed Ryder Lynn, the youngest on the team. He, too, was a giant Bruins fan, and the first invited over to watch a game. Sam convinced Mercedes that he was good kid, and nothing would come out about the subject. Mercedes, however, had newfound confidence, and wasn't sure if she cared much to hide her relationship with Sam any longer. She had spent an entire season with the Legends, and if they'd fire her over that, then maybe she truly was expendable. Mercedes hated feeling like she wasn't needed; she didn't set out to be openly disrespectful to Will, but she was tired of being blackmailed into doing work for Sebastian that he didn't want to do. His dissatisfaction had done everything but lessen, and the tension in the office was palpable. She tested her luck and spent as much time with Sam as possible during her week off. When not engulfed in his strong arms or asleep on her of his couch, she found herself lost in long spa days or ridiculous shopping sprees. She'd gotten a pay raise at the end of the season, and nearly forgot that she had a surplus of money in her bank account. With only a word, Mercedes headed to the Lima mall and bought enough clothes to completely restock her wardrobe almost. Her fashion had made a drift from casual, most of her clothes from college, to dressy and business-casual. She liked it, and the improvement, but she found herself buying a few delicates for Sam's eyes only. Not that she'd be wearing them anytime soon, she attempted to insure herself. Waiting until marriage to have sex was never a giant discipline to Mercedes, not even in college. The boys at Ohio State, though very good lookers, were still in an intense high-school mentality. She had always been more mature than the people her age, and that was a characteristic that never changed. Mercedes could goof around with her friends and talk about meager topics, but she was, in no way, interested in boys who only discussed how boring Bronte was and how awesome the Buckeyes were. A spot on the college volleyball team earned her some recognition, a few dates, but Mercedes's virginity remained intact all the way through the character-building endeavor. The fight for virginity, however, was not so easy when it came to the Hometown Sweetheart. Something about the way his hair molded against his face, and fell gently into his eyes when he wasn't busy rushing his hands through it or shoving it behind his ears. Sam had inexplicable arm definition, a chiseled abdomen, and a friendly smile on a rock-hard jaw line. Occasionally when they were cuddling, he'd moved just in the position for Mercedes to see the imprint of Sam's last mystery, usually causing her to clear her throat and adjust positions. He was an awesome kisser, had giant hands, phenomenal masseuse even, he was the entire package. _How'd she get so lucky?_ If there was anyone to give her virginity to, Sam was the one. Even if he wasn't her soul mate, she'd regret not letting him go down on her for the rest of her life, Mercedes felt that. And what if he was going to be her husband in the future? Was it so bad to go ahead and consummate the relationship? Sam had strong morals too, he wasn't ever in the mood to force or pressure Mercedes into sex, but she knew that he wasn't interested in waiting until marriage. He could say that he was fine with it, but all she had to do was let a finger linger too long, and she'd be out of her v-card, and he'd be one more step away from his long gone virginity.

"It'd be my first time with you,' he explained when Mercedes had originally asked about his sexual history. "So in a way, you could call be a virgin." Mercedes had squinted her eyes, annoyed at the line. _He was so damn cheesy._ It got to the point where the way he gripped the sheets in the morning was a turn-on, but each time she considered making a move, she remembered that her body was, indeed, a temple. She'd save it for her husband and no other man; it was the only piece of her that was still a mystery, and she'd like to keep it that way. Even from the super sexy boyfriend of hers, that seemingly bit his lip each time Mercedes got caught stealing a glance at him.

Ever so preoccupied with her personal life, Mercedes nearly forgot her invitation to an 'End of Season' cook-out hosted by the booster club. After being reminded via Facebook message by an overzealous fan, Mercedes confirmed to go to the player's apartments where the meal was being held. Reminded that she was the only person from the office invited, she opted to arrive to the cook-out with Sam. It was no secret that the booster club was no big fan of Will, Tyler, or Sebastian. They complained that Sebastian rarely called back to confirm appointments and made a objective of hastily getting off the phone; Tyler did his job to the least of his ability, and no one really knew what Will did, if anything. Sam was going to the cook-out anyway, so he suggested that she just meet him out there. Since a few people knew about their relationship, an array of big team supporters and players, it wouldn't be a big deal. If anyone seemed a bit to skeptical, they'd just act like friends and deny the blessing of any public displays of affection. Deciding on a light blue and navy romper, Mercedes went for a natural makeup palette, and straight hair for the occasion. The cook-out started at two and the invitation said it'd be over by eight, so, as fashionably late as possible, Mercedes arrived to the apartments where smoke from a grill clouded the warm day, and multiple hockey players played football in the lawn.

"Hi, sweetheart,' a plump woman in a tight Lima Legends shirt called upon seeing Mercedes. Her straightened hair had suffered from the elements and opted into a fresh frizz, the woman was Margery Stamps, the overzealous fan who'd invited Mercedes to the cook-out in the first place. Mercedes waved at the woman, heading over to her, and dropping her phone into her purse.

"Hi, Mrs. Stamps, how are you?"

"I'm fine,' the woman said, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. "Drew done burnt half the damn hotdogs, and some of the booster club wives disappeared with the players, God knows what they're up to. The players who are here are more concerned with playing football than eating, we did this for them, y'know?"

Mercedes's eyebrows raised as she crossed her arms and scanned the population. Feigning interest, she replied, "I know… that's too bad. I'll make sure to get something to eat, we don't want anything going to waste. Have you seen Coleen?"

Rolling her eyes, Margery nodded and pointed to a thin woman standing amongst a crowd of players. "Nothing'll go to waste, you know the boys. They'll eat anything they can get their hands on, ain't that right?"

Mercedes laughed and nodded, finally waving a quick goodbye, and heading over to Coleen. She stood in between a group of hockey players, a beer bottle in one hand. She laughed too hard at jokes, but seemed to be leading the conversation. A tall, thin woman with shoulder-length blonde hair, Coleen Scythe had started out as a simple volunteer for the team. After a few years, she'd worked her way to president of the Booster Club, not that she was earning any revenue from it. It was an ardent undertaking, nonetheless. Mercedes wanted to thank her personally for handling most of the drama during the season. Previous presidents of the Booster Club had only sufficed to add fuel to the fire when it came to confrontations. One president, a gay man, had made so many of the players uncomfortable with remarks about 'liking his salad tossed', that the team had no choice but to let him go. Coleen, in the end, was a good choice. She was in her early-thirties, serious but flirty, dangerously skinny, and had sunken, light blue eyes. She dressed fashionably and had an unseen charismatic charm.

Knudsen, Dozier, and Seene, #71, unraveled for Mercedes to make her way into the group. Noting that she was more interested in talking to Coleen instead of them, they gave both of the women gentle hugs and slid away from the scene.

Mercedes moved to hold onto Coleen's arms, sharing a long glance, before both bursting into laughter and sharing a tight hug.

"What a season it's been!" Coleen said finally, pushing her hair out of her face. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, giving Mercedes divided attention as she scanned the crowd for any anomalies.

"That it has, that it has… How have you been?"

"Good,' Coleen affirmed. "Busy, very busy. I'm ready to take a break, these people have worn me out. You don't even need to guess where half of my team is at right now."

Giggling, Mercedes realized she hadn't seen Westley at all, and figured he was one of the few back in the apartments having sex. "I know as much… maybe get some men on staff next year?"

"Absolutely not,' Coleen wagged her finger, remembering Salad-Guy. "How have you been, baby? You good? Sebastian still being a dick?"

"As per usual,' Mercedes said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "But, I've been fine. Things with Sam are going great, I'm really content right now."

Coleen nodded knowingly, "I'm glad you two are making it work,' she said.

Mercedes nodded, smiling. Slightly perplexed by the comment, as she never shared any romantic problems between Sam and herself with Coleen, she tagged it to the 'secret relationship' trope and continued. "I really just came over to thank you for your work this season, I couldn't have done it without you. These people are crazy, we both know."

"No problem,' Coleen said, bringing Mercedes in for a side-hug. "I love what I do, I love the fans, I love the drama. I'd have it no other way,' smiling, she trailed. "Where's Sammy, by the way?"

"I'm sure he's one of the guys playing football,' Mercedes said, turning around to watch the bustle of men fighting and running after one another. Sure enough, a blond head stuck out immediately. They watched for a few minutes, chuckling at the group. Mercedes spotted Sam again, first running with the ball, and then being tackled. She frowned dramatically, imitating a tear streaming down her cheek. "He chose the right sport."

"That he did, good player,' Coleen said, swiping through her phone before taking a call. Mercedes looked on absently before Caleb Stamps, Drew and Margery's grandson, ran up to her waist and latched on for a hug. Patting his back, Mercedes smiled down on the little boy, looking at Coleen wearily. Coleen shrugged and chatted into the phone.

Backing up, out of breath and sweat-soaked, Caleb began in halted gasps. "Grandma said if- you- want a hotdog- to come- and get it,' he breathed heavily, his hair clinging to his pale skin. Gripping for Mercedes's hand, she let herself be dragged away by the child, offering a small wave to Coleen.

A platter of hotdogs and burgers sat on a fold-away table, a few bugs flying over but being constantly swatted away by Margery. Cups of lemonade and tea sat on the furthest end of the table, along with napkins and condiments. A cooler of beer sat on the ground at the end of the table, a few husbands standing around it and drinking. Dropping Mercedes's hand, Caleb rushed to get a plate and pick up a too-hot hotdog from the table, instead dropping it on the ground, much to his grandmother's chagrin. Shaking her head, she looked at Mercedes, shook her head again for emphasis, and walked away with her hands on her hips.

"Are you going to eat that?" Mercedes asked, watching the boy attentively. Caleb shrugged and put a hamburger on his plate instead and ran away. A line formed behind the table, and Mercedes moved to get in it. She wasn't entirely hungry, but she'd promised to eat something. Landing behind a few players, she smiled pleasantly, and looked ahead. Rather quickly, arms landed around her waist, and Sam's head was craned between her neck. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and frowned comically. He kissed her cheek sloppily, encouraging laughter from both of them.

"What's up, babe?"

"What's up, stinky?" Mercedes asked, Sam beginning to rock the two back and forth. Frowning, he leaned over to smell himself, frowned again, and backed away.

"Brings me back to hockey season,' he said, airing his shirt out. Standing with his hands on his waist for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath, he finally tapped the players standing in front of them and returned his hand to Mercedes's lower back.

Turning around, a bright blond and a giant, older brown-haired man looked at the couple in smiles.

"Kendall, Steph,' Sam began. "This is my girlfriend,' Sam used a hand to show-off Mercedes. "Mercedes. Mercedes, don't know if you've met these guys, they're dorks. Kendall Holm, #11. Steph McLaurin, #5. One terribly wonderful goalie, and one wonderfully terrible goalie."

"Briefly,' Mercedes revealed, shaking Steph's hand, and hugging Kendall, who was closer to her. Kendall was easier 6'4, had short, brown hair, and a wonderful smile. Steph was bit smaller, very thin, with dirty blond hair. She knew he'd had a hard time since the team's play-off loss, most of the guys blaming him, but he conveniently kept a smile on either way. Kendall and Steph were always at each other's hips, the team's class clowns.

"You and this guy?" Kendall asked, pointing to Sam. "He's the dork, don't let him fool you."

"Oh,' Mercedes replied, "I know." Mercedes pulled herself closer to Sam, smiling. It felt good to be in public with him without fear of repercussion, it was even nicer to be called his girlfriend and have his sweaty, but still, arm around her waist.

"He must've put it down on you, don't see any other reason you'd stick,' Steph said boldly. His cheeks reddened when Sam and Kendall hesitated to laugh, but when Mercedes collapsed his cackles, the other three did as well.

"You've got a point,' Mercedes revealed. "Do you two have girlfriends?"

"No, they're boyfriend and girlfriend, didn't you know?" Sam said, smirking difficultly.

Kendall sneered, looking behind him and moving forward in the line, the rest following suit. "Funny."

Steph laughed and held up his hand for Mercedes to see, "I'm engaged actually, her name is Cameron."

Kendall matched Steph's palm, a ring on his finger as well. "Her name is Carmen. They're twins,' he laughed. Mercedes smiled in delight, understanding immediately why Kendall and Steph spent so much time together. She wondered how they'd all met, but forgot to ask when Kendall pulled out his phone to show Mercedes a photo of the four at a dinner. The girls, notable fraternal twins, looked to be mixed with black and white heritage. Carmen, wrapped underneath Kendall's arm, had jet black hair, cut into a boy's cut. She was thin with slender lips and dark eyes, in the photo she was caught laughing at something Steph had said, her arm out to try to get him to quit talking while the photo was being taken. Cameron, thicker, sat with a straight face and cocked eyebrow while Steph had his arm wrapped around her waist, his lips in the photo revealing that he had been talking when it was taken. Cameron had curly, brown and blonde, shoulder-length hair, and was much thicker than Carmen. She had bright eyes and a pierced nose; the group sat bunched together in a restaurant's booth, Kendall the only one notably ready for the photo. It was nice, though. They all looked happy.

"This is an awesome photo,' Mercedes indulged, handing Kendall's phone back. "You guys look happy. You two are going to be brother-in-laws."

"Looks like it,' Steph said, the four finally getting to the beginning of the line. Steph and Kendall took their plates and continued in a conversation of their own, walking ahead of the couple.

"I had no clue they were both engaged,' Sam whispered to Mercedes, a look of general confusion plastered on his face.

"Do you take the time to get to know your teammates?" Mercedes asked, smiling when Mr. Stamps handed her a plate. "Thank you."

Sam took a plate as well, scurrying to get multiple hot dogs, eventually plastering an array of mustard and ketchup all over the plate. "As much as possible,' he replied. "I'm surprised they didn't mention something like that, engaged to twins? That's pretty cool."

Mercedes frowned at Sam's plate, her own being rather mediocre in comparison. Holding hands loosely, they made their way over to the poolside. A few lay-out chairs set untouched underneath an umbrella. Sitting across from each other, Sam and Mercedes picked at their hot dogs, both realizing at the same time they'd forgotten drinks. "What do you want?" Sam asked, standing.

"If they have water, that'd be fine."

Sam nodded and headed back onto the front lawn, just as Westley passed him and made his way over to Mercedes. "Is that who I think it is?" He asked, his hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. Mercedes, however, was excited to see the handsome young man and stood to hug him.

"I missed you, big guy,' she revealed, looking over his outfit. He wore a tight white shirt, cargo capris, and a pair of all-white Vans. Despite his hair, he was flawless, _truly a marvel._ Westley hugged her quickly, Mercedes's head fitting perfectly into her chest. Smiling up at him, she held her hand to her face to block the setting sun from getting in her eyes.

"You and Evans, huh? - I should've called it,' he said, sitting down, placing his hands on his knees. His long legs came up to his chest on the short chair.

"He's a good guy,' Mercedes replied, crossing her legs. "I like him."

"He's cool, very fun,' Westley said, absent-mindedly. Sam returned to the pool, two beers in tote, and a water bottle underneath his arm. He navigated so that Mercedes could get the water bottle from between his chest and elbow, and passed one of the beers over to Westley.

"Good look,' Westley said, cracking off the lid quickly and turning the bottle up to his lips.

"So, what are we talking about?" Sam asked, tearing into one of the hot dogs on his plate.

"Oh,' Westley shrugged, "Just about how lucky Mercedes is to be dating a guy in the NHL, right, Mercedes?"

Mercedes, who had been in the midst of opening her water bottle, looked up and furrowed her eyebrows. Sam was soon coughing to muddle the conversation, and sitting his hotdog back onto the plate. He reached for the beer between his feet, and covered his eyes to Mercedes's gaze, instead shooting daggers at Westley. Westley, after realizing he'd spilled unknown information, raised his hands in surrender and stood up quickly. He thanked Sam for the beer and shuffled away from the couple, not looking back.

"What is he talking about?" Mercedes asked sternly, squinting her eyes at Sam.

"I thought you knew,' Sam replied, pushing his head between his knees.

"No, you didn't, Sam." She said in return, louder than before.

" _I thought you knew!_ "

"No, there is no way in hell you thought I knew, Sam. You didn't tell me and I haven't been into work for a week." She was beginning to raise her voice, a few people in the pool looking their way. Sam moved to grip Mercedes's arm as she looked prepared to storm away.

"Let's go talk, please? We can go up to my apartment,' Sam pleaded, begged.

"Why?' She asked coyly. "So they can think I'm upstairs sleeping with you, Sam?" Mercedes was doing her best to keep tears at bay as she pulled away from Sam's grasp and stood. He followed her up, frowning. The sun was beginning to set, but he kept his eyes on his girlfriend.

"No, no? Let's talk okay, don't shut me out." Sam pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed for his apartment, looking back only once to see if Mercedes was following him. He took his beer bottle with him, though their plates, and Mercedes's water bottle remained around the pool. She followed him at a distance, and by the time she rounded to his door, he was already inside. Pacing around the floor, Sam pulled his hair back with a hair band, and took his damp shirt off and threw it into the corner. He looked to be searching for something else to put on when Mercedes walked in and shut the door behind her.

"Why'd you lie?"

"I didn't lie,' he began.

Mercedes raised her finger at him, "Samuel Evans, I'm going to ask you one time. Why did you lie to me?"

"Lying and failing to reveal knowledge are two different things. If you ask me the question correctly, I can give you the answer that you want."

Nodding, Mercedes turned around and moved to open the door. "I'm leaving."

"Mercedes,' he began, attempting to run his fingers through his pulled-back hair. "I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't want to break up. We have a good thing going here, we understand each other. We love each other, I didn't want to ruin it."

She scoffed, "And you thought lying would keep us together?"

Sam mirrored her previous stance by raising a finger, "I didn't lie, Mercedes. I just didn't tell you. What would you have done if I had told you? You would have broken up with me anyway, I'm sorry I wanted some more time with you."

Mercedes shook her head, "Why are you so dead-set on me breaking up with you? What makes you think I would have broken up with you, Sam? I care about you."

Putting his hands behind his head, Sam sighed. "Because it's not like I'm going to New York or New Jersey."

"Where, then?"

Sam dragged a hand across his face, a long gasp escaping his lips. He didn't speak; Mercedes reiterated, "Where, Sam?"

"Vancouver, okay?" He shrugged, "Vancouver, Mercedes."

Mercedes looked at him considerately, her demeanor finally changing, her heart dropping. She shook her head. "I can't."

Mercedes was above asking Sam to stay in Lima for her. Their relationship, though meaningful, had been a short one. Sam had worked his entire life to become a professional hockey player, she would not keep him from that, nor would she embarrass herself by trying to. She reminded herself that he probably would have felt just as ridiculous by asking her to move out of country for him. They were at a stand-still, there was nowhere but down for them.

"I know,' Sam began, nodding pitifully. Mercedes watched him swat away a tear. "Maybe we could-'

"No, Sam,' she cut him off. "I don't want to hurt you, but I have to be honest. I don't want to hurt myself. I'm not cut-out for the long-distance thing, neither are you. We can't do this to each other, maybe if things were different. I just wish you had told me…"

"Would that have changed your mind? If I had told you earlier?" He asked, looking at Mercedes with sad eyes.

"Maybe." Mercedes looked around the apartment, searching for all of her things that had integrated so well with his belongings. She looked back at a motionless Sam, silently praying that she had made the right choice. "If things are ever different,' she chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but Sam would not be phased. Digging her nails into her skin, she walked across the living room, and placed her hand on Sam's chest. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek. "Just text me when you're packed up, I'll come and get my stuff." Drifting away, Mercedes headed to the door, only stopped by Sam's voice.

"I really cared for you, you know."

Mercedes nodded, offering a gentle smile. "I know,' she replied, walking out of the door and shutting it softly. She heard something thrown across the room as soon as she exited, understanding that Sam's anger had probably gotten the best of him. Her way of releasing emotions was not so tangible, tears instead rolling down her cheeks, Mercedes immediately choking for breath. She bounded down the steps quickly, hoping to get back to her car before anyone could ask what was wrong. It was nearly dark outside, luckily; Mercedes stayed to the edge of the crowd, only bumping into someone as she was crossing from grass to pavement.

The woman who Mercedes had bumped into asked if she was okay or not, but Mercedes refused to answer, still on her dark trek back to her car.

"Mercedes, what the hell is going on?" Santana asked after following Mercedes for a few steps. With the word, Mercedes fell onto the back window of someone's SUV in sobs. She ran her fingers through her hair first, before shoving her face into her hands, her entire body shaking heavily. Santana frowned, Rachel nearing the scene as well. They were both terribly late to the cook-out, but had seemingly, gotten there just in time. Looking to Rachel for guidance, Rachel motioned for Santana to hug Mercedes. Doing so, Santana stroked her friend's long hair and whispered into her ear.

"It's okay, mami. Tell me what's wrong."


	7. Chapter 7

The smug smile on Sebastian's lips Monday morning brought a heaving feeling to Mercedes throat, he granted her knowing eyes but said nothing. She was crowded by the idea that he, possibly, knew about Sam's transfer long before she. Had he watched her flutter in love's spindle knowing she'd be soon cut?

Everything was official; the Legends paid for players' flights and baggage, the Hometown Sweetheart's copied plane tickets stapled to Vancouver Canucks transaction papers lie on Mercedes's desk that morning. She flipped through the contract, one that had only been signed the week before. Sam hadn't lied, not completely, but his signature in blue pen pierced her red heart. Mercedes pushed the documents away and continued her work: preparing season tickets, conversing with corporate sponsors, occasionally emailing junior leagues to build general interest in players. She did her job with as much fervor as she could manage, but her demeanor was nowhere near the same. Will was out of the office that day, and Tyler was underground conversing with the team's coach and maintenance team. Sebastian lingered in his office during the day, alternating between phone calls and typing speedily on the computer. He kept his door open, something he usually wasn't fond of doing, but still made no effort to speak with Mercedes. Mutually, they couldn't understand why they were at work. There wasn't much to complete, and they weren't there to bask in each other's company. Their relationship had long since been severed, and Sam's departure was no excuse for Mercedes to forget Sebastian's actions. She believed firmly that his kindness months ago had been a façade, an attempt to get close to her, find out information he could hover over her in blackmail. Now that Sam was gone, he would need something new.

With cuffed pant legs over boat shoes, Sebastian wore a loose white flannel and intertwined his fingers with the 'Minnesota Wild' keychain hanging low out of his pocket. He resembled a boy in a fraternity above all else. He was freshly shaved and his hair void of any products, Sebastian rushed his fingers through his short locks quickly before he finally approached Mercedes around noon.

"Sorry to hear about Sam,' he said, raising his eyebrows before shifting his weight to the desk.

"Sure you are…' Mercedes trailed, rolling her eyes. She pushed herself away from her desk to seem preoccupied, hoping the man would drift away.

"So, how's that going to work? Are you going to Vancouver or is he going to give up his life long goal of being in the NHL to stay here with you?' Sebastian asked knowingly. "I'm truly curious. "

"We broke up, Sebastian,' she replied heavily, sighing while shifting through paperwork.

Nodding slowly, he sucked his teeth. "See, that's what I thought. - If there's any consolation, at least you're not breaking company policy anymore."

"What do you want, Sebastian?"

"Well,' he began, pulling his keys from his pocket. "I was just letting you know I'm going for lunch. I was going to invite you, but you seem more than content without my company." Sebastian trekked over to the office's back door, "I'll get you something."

Mercedes turned back around when Sebastian finally left, letting out another big sigh at his disappearance. Happy that she was now the only one in the office, she moved to do some tidying. The office had probably never been dusted, she considered, or vacuumed for that matter. Humming a sweet tune, she sorted files and cleaned what she could manage. Mercedes did her best not to move things that would be difficult to find in the future, but lone beer cans could easily be thrown into the trash. The downtime gave her an opportunity to think, something that she had been avoiding since Friday night. She'd ended up sleeping over Santana's house, the two, along with Rachel, having a girls' night. They ate ice cream, painted each other's nails, and watched Lifetime. It was refreshing, and all Mercedes could do to avoid having a break-down. Santana tried to euphemize the relationship by comparing it to a simple 'fling'. Santana shined her promiscuity at each venue she was given a chance, Rachel, however, admitted that Finn probably wouldn't be getting called up, but more than likely would be traded to a new team as a captain. She confessed that she'd be completely willing to move for him; Mercedes was disheartened by Rachel's affection, then considering her own meager. No matter what Santana said, Mercedes knew what Sam had meant to her. She considered him a first-love, mainly because he was the first relationship she'd ever had. Mercedes had been unlucky in high school and college, she'd swooped into a relationship with Sam when first she caught wind of the opportunity, without so much as thinking that his career would ever be an obstacle. She reprimanded herself, she knew she was smarter than her previous actions, but the heart is deaf to the mind. Finally, she deemed her heartbreak was entirely her fault, and the void that option begot was indefinite.

Saturday morning she thanked Rachel and Santana for their time and drove back home. The apartment felt different, as it was usually comforted by Sam's presence. Mercedes had hardly expected that the last time they laid on her off-white, plush couch it would be the final time. Her hands trembled along a heavy purse, her foot pushing the door shut, her eyes locked on the chair. She imagined Sam's arm draped around her waist, his sharp jaw marooned in the nape of her neck. His light hair trickling down her reddening cheeks, as he whispered something and Mercedes pretended to find distaste in his seduction. The memory washed over her in intense sobs, where once she loved she was now broken. The memory of him was damagingly painful, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Mercedes vowed to keep his name from her thoughts, but everything reminded her of him, and thus, everything hurt. The option to call and forgive weighed heavily on her chest, but she knew the break-up was for the best. She never considered depression as an option for herself; she was a genuinely bubbly person, an optimistic soul. The hollowness Mercedes felt, however, proved her wrong. There was no drowning in ice cream or sad movies, there were only tears until they were deplete, and then there was nothing.

Sam left her with nothing.

Empty.

Mercedes paced around her white and purple apartment, considering transforming the scheme to black and gray, cutting all her hair off, moving out of the country. She needed a change, she needed to forget the person she was when she was with Sam. She was her best self with him, though, and this worried her internally. Mercedes wondered if he suffered too, wondered if his heart broke over each new minute like her's. Blindly, she hoped it did; earnestly, she yearned it not. She wouldn't wish the pain she felt on anyone else.

In between her sheets on Saturday and in between pews on Sunday, she prayed for her heart's repair, to love again or never, it didn't truly matter. Nothing truly mattered, the idea of moving on was daunting yet unfeasible. Mercedes got home late Sunday, her mother having had invited her daughter over for dinner. Renee Jones knew her daughter well, had spotted the young woman's fake smile from a mile away, and insisted they share a home-cooked meal and talk about what was weighing so heavily on Mercedes's heart. The advice her mother gave, though heavily faith-based, was much needed and altogether comforting. Arriving home, Mercedes found a sticky note on her door, advising her to check in with the apartment manager. The handwriting was unfamiliar, presumably written by someone from the apartment's office. She'd never received anything of the sort, and was apprehensive until she walked in the apartment's office to see a neatly packaged box. The manager, a tall and thin man, implied he had very little work to do, and could take the box to Mercedes apartment for her.

"A man with blond hair brought it for you, he said he didn't just want to leave it at your door, someone might steal it. I think the complex is pretty safe, but you can't ever be too careful, I guess."

Mercedes nodded in a tight agreement, thanking the man for his help, and shutting the apartment door behind him. She cut the box open with her keys and sat with legs crossed in front of it, hoping some of the scent from Sam's apartment might still linger in her possessions. Atop of a mixture of her clothes and prepping material, lay a piece of notebook paper, a thin note reading, ' _I love you. Always._ '

The energy she needed for work was idealistic, but she relented and went anyway, knowing she'd already missed an entire week. Mercedes was glad Will wasn't present, allowing her to give a rather relaxed attitude towards her work; she had lack of motivation and still did not feel like herself.

When the office looked the best it could, Mercedes retired to her desk's chair to wait for Sebastian's arrival. She decided she'd take her lunch after his, maybe look for a part-time job. She did her best to remain preoccupied, not to let herself slip into the place she'd been Saturday. The office's back door creaked open finally, and Mercedes stood, jacket across arm and purse in tote. She watched Sebastian walk in hesitantly, waiting for him to get situated so that she would not have to rush past him, but he inched over to her desk with a large bag from a nearby diner.

"I got some food from Danny's Delicatessen,' Sebastian revealed quietly.

"I was going to go out,' Mercedes replied, negating to make eye contact.

"Come on,' Sebastian persisted, nodding his head towards the back door. Mercedes followed behind, the two nearing a conveniently positioned patio underneath a tree. Sebastian pulled out a variety of sandwiches and a small, circular platter of cheesecake. Two water bottles rested at the bottom of the bag along, he placed them neatly on the table and sat.

"I just got ham and turkey,' he shrugged, coaxing Mercedes down with wide eyes. "Don't really know what you like."

"It's fine,' she replied, reaching for one of the wraps. Though stored in aluminum, a dark 'T' revealed it's composition. "Thanks,' Mercedes began, peeling back the wrapping.

"Don't worry about it… did I miss too many calls while I was out?"

"I honestly wasn't listening,' Mercedes said flatly, dropping her head into her hand and picking at the sandwich. She trickled over to the water bottle instead, taking a deep gulp.

"There goes the work effort I love,' Sebastian joked, only to be met with fierce eyes from Mercedes. He weaned back and began his sandwich before wiping his mouth and speaking again. "It's nice out here."

"Yeah…"

He watched Mercedes for a few seconds before speaking, "I don't know, maybe you don't like nice spring days. You look like someone who really appreciates autumn. You like it because you can wear cool clothes and warm clothes alternatively."

"I told you that?" Mercedes asked curiously.

"No,' Sebastian shrugged, dawning a smile. "I could tell."

"Well,' Mercedes replied sarcastically. "Maybe you should be a psychic instead of a Director of Sales and Marketing."

"Doesn't pay as well."

Sebastian surveyed Mercedes cautiously, still ate, turning to the next sandwich when he was finished with his original. Mercedes alternated between sips of water and clawing at her lunch with short nails, too upset to eat. He expected the conversation to take a different turn, maybe she would be a bit forgiving to him if he was no longer a perpetual asshole. He didn't have a reason to be anymore. Sebastian gulped, anxiously noting that Mercedes would not speak unless spoken to.

"I felt like it might be the right time to apologize,' he began, Mercedes continuing with a sassy grunt. "After reviewing the past few months, I see the error in my ways. I think I acted selfishly, but above all, unprofessionally. If you choose not to forgive me, I understand, but I'd like you to know that your forgiveness was sought."

"And that's supposed to fix something?"

"Not necessarily, but it's the beginning… I can see my immaturity from high school and college trickling into my adulthood. I can, also, see that our relationship may be irreparable, but I'd like to cut the animosity at the stem starting now. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable doing your job because of my actions."

"Sebastian, nothing you can say is going to fix-'

"I get it,' he shrugged, pleading to allow himself to finish. "I get it. It's foolish, but maybe if you understood, you would know the reasons for my actions."

Pushing her sandwich away from her, Mercedes looked up at Sebastian finally, sitting her chin on the lid of her closed water bottle and staring wide-eyed. "Please, Sebastian. Help me understand, help me figure out why you have been giving me a hard time this entire season, and I swear, if you say something about it ' _making me a better worker_ ', I will get up and walk away right now."

He nested his head into his elbow and released a heavy sigh. Shaking his head, Sebastian sighed. "This is so embarrassing… in a different time, I would've been so sure of myself, this wouldn't be a hardship,' he traced between her eyes, a sorrowful look plastered on his face. "It just feels like it's in vain."

Mercedes looked over Sebastian wearily, "What do you mean?"

Very uneasily, Sebastian came to the realization that he could not advance in his position if he withheld the truth any longer. Something that he'd done his best to coat for so long hesitated in the back of his throat like a winter's sickness. Passing his hand over the back of his neck, Sebastian leaned over the table and spoke. "When you were first hired,' he began, looking down at the table. "I just thought of you as a coworker, someone that was fun and that I liked to see. I wasn't confused or unsure of my feelings for you, because there were none. There was a point around that second or third week that I really started thinking of you more… I just- I hadn't met anyone with any genuine empathy for other people in so long, and maybe it was in my mind, but I felt like you did so much to try to impress me, and maybe that was apart of the appeal.

"I had a crush,' he continued lightly. "I wished it away, and when you ended up with Sam, I was jealous. I was hurt; my best defense was to be the bad guy. Maybe it started in hopes that you would break-up with him to save your job but it ended in envy, I guess. I can't validate my actions nor can I make sense of them myself,' Sebastian voiced, finally looking up at Mercedes. The sun glared brightly on her face, and he could not make out an expression, so he continued. "What I will say is that I really cared for you, and if I could go back and change it, I would… I can't, but I would."

"Why didn't you tell me? Before Sam,' Mercedes finally asked, frowning sympathetically.

"I was the one who doted on professionalism… What would I look like confessing my feelings for you so early in? I'm not used to monogamy, and at the time I knew I couldn't treat you the way I thought you deserved to be treated. I thought maybe something would come of it in the future, and then you were with Sam. I knew Sam would treat you better than I ever could, I acted out."

Mercedes sat silently for a few moments, lost in thought. Sebastian eventually sat upright, packaging what was left of the meal, hesitating between his hands and Mercedes. He allowed her time to think without saying much, after moments, he watched her stand with her jacket and purse. Clutching onto her water bottle, Mercedes shook her head. "I can't do this,' she began. "Tell Will I'll be in tomorrow or maybe Wednesday… I just, I need time to think. - Thanks for lunch." She walked swiftly away from the picnic table, leaving Sebastian and their lunch behind her. She started her car quickly and made way to her home quickly, void of any understanding, Mercedes didn't want to begin reviewing Sebastian's words until she was in the comfort of her own home. Walking in the door, she was reminded of the heartbreak she had recently suffered, and the idea of attempting anything with Sebastian was disparaging. Not that she felt anything for the man in the first place. How could she?

How could she feel anything for the single being who had made her life a living hell for the past five months nearly? More importantly, how could he have felt anything for her? Bentley's words from a few months ago stood out to her then- had he known? Had he seen Sebastian's affections months before she? In the easiest equation, Sebastian's confession had done little in the efforts of explanation. Professionalism had not gotten in the way of her emotions, and if Sebastian truly felt as strongly as he had revealed, it wouldn't have for him either. Mercedes was lost in a myriad, remembering scenes of a quick year: detailing moments that could have hinted to the truth. Had Sam known?

Her blankets gave her the only security possible; for a woman who so loathed not being in control, her life had face dived into an abyss of subservience. At the end of the day, everyone but her won. _Everyone_. Mercedes riddled, however, what turn her life would have taken had Sebastian walked her to her car instead of Sam that night back in the bar. Could that have been the deciding factor in the course of her life? Would she have been lost in her own skin had Sebastian called her his instead? Those were, of course, only grand speculations in an otherwise normal life. She'd never know the answer to the questions; he was not an option for her. Too much had happened and he had sought surcease much too soon.

Swiping through her phone, for some possible eye opener, Mercedes located a photo from earlier in the season: one of her and Sebastian at a bowling alley. A scheduled team meet-up on a Sunday afternoon, long before she and Sam had began dating but after the night at the bar.

" _You are very bad at bowling,' Sebastian joked, sitting down in front of Mercedes as a few people took their turns on the lane. Mercedes's fingers were wrapped around a perspirating icee and her lips were curled tightly around a straw, she giggled at Sebastian and looked at her pitiful score. He was very right, she trailed by twenty points to the next closest player in score._

" _I can't be good at everything,' she flirted. Sam, who she had been talking to since the past week, had given her new found confidence. She lingered longer, touched softer, and spoke smoother; Sebastian noticed. "You're good, really good."_

" _I played a bit back in college,' Sebastian revealed, folding his arms. Mercedes mocked him slightly in a laugh, but Sebastian shrugged, unharmed. "I was on a bowling team, I'm completely unembarrassed. There's a lot of skill when it comes to bowling, skill that you, clearly, don't possess."_

" _Clearly,' she said, pushing herself closer to the table and smiling largely at Sebastian. "You've never offered to teach me, so I don't want to hear it Mr. Professional Bowler."_

" _If you're willing to learn, I can sacrifice my time."_

" _I'd love to,' Mercedes decided._

 _Sebastian furthered himself back into the booth and smiled at Mercedes. She mulled over his eyes, licking her lips finally and looking back at the scoreboard. Deciding this was moment he'd like to remember as Mercedes's hair swooped over her decoratively, he pulled out his phone, "Mercedes, I don't believe we have a single photo together."_

" _We don't, do we?' she replied with some excitement, hopping to Sebastian's side of the booth, pushing him over with a gyrate of the hips. Sebastian put up a small bit of fight, in effort to feel her pressed against him for more than a glimpse, finally relenting, and sliding into the booth. She wrapped both arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder as Sebastian wrapped his left arm around her shoulder and held the camera up to snap a photo with his right hand. Eventually pressing his cheek to her forehead's temple, they shifted through silly faces and genuine smiles. After they'd taken at least thirty, Sebastian placed his phone on the table for the two to swipe through the alarming amount of pictures together. Apart from Mercedes's left arm dropping to assist with swiping and deleting, they remained in the dim bowling alley, wrapped together. Deciding to keep most of them, Mercedes smiled happily over the collection._

" _I'll send them to you,' Sebastian promised._

 _Pulling away from him finally, Mercedes gave a question eyebrow raise to Sebastian. "Yeah, how?' she asked. "You still don't have my number."_

 _Sebastian winced playfully before conceding, "It might be an appropriate time to get it, but if you ever leave me on a read receipt, I'm deleting it. I swear to you."_

" _Okay,' Mercedes giggled. "I promise to reply. Just for you."_

In retrospect, how had she not known?

Mercedes called in sick Tuesday, gladly met by Will on the other end of the telephone instead of Sebastian. He made it clear that he was fine with her missing work and that he'd be glad to see her whenever she was first able to come in. She took the opportunity to do some cleaning around the house along with a bout of self-repair. Shifting between uplifting music and emotional R&B, Mercedes spent the day preparing a meal, rearranging furniture, an attempt at yoga, and wading through new outfit ideas. She returned to herself, decidedly noting that life could be tolerable if she didn't think about Sam. If she didn't remember his smooth voice on the back of her neck while she was in a wobbling Warrior-position life could be applicable. The wound was still raw, her heart still crippled, but the damage could be healed if she didn't continue to nip at the wound. What she had not anticipated was the waft of Sebastian's light cologne during the Bow-pose; he could not be so easily left in the past. The anxiety in her chest at the thought of Sebastian numbed her body. Mercedes's meditation ended in the revelation that the only reason she had called out of work was to avoid him. Her apprehension was indefinable and not as easily cured.

The next day she slinked into the office, closing the door lightly in hopes that Sebastian would not hear her arrival. Though his door was shut, Mercedes saw him immediately, looming over the printer, seemingly awaiting a fax. Sighing, she adverted from his gaze hurriedly and moved to her desk. Sebastian followed her with his eyes for a distance, but returned to the printer, receiving the paper he awaited after a few seconds. Taking the hot sheet, he trailed over to his office and sat it down on his desk, he hovered for an amount of seconds before returning to the lobby.

"Hey,' he whispered gently, running his hand over the desk and watching Mercedes cautiously.

"Hi,' she offered quietly, a toe in the water. Continuing on in general conversation for a few minutes, Mercedes noted a newfound race in her heart's pace. She found it difficult to maintain Sebastian's eye contact, but chalked it up to self-doubt. Eventually scanning the office, she asked, "Where is everyone at?"

"Hell, if I know,' Sebastian replied stiffly, putting his hands into his pockets. "Will did text me though. He wants us to tear down."

Tear down included going in the ceiling rafters to withdrawal thirty-pound banners from the corners of the coliseum along with banners along the edge of the seats. Not that she had a fear of heights, but Mercedes held a very strong disdain relating to tear down. Usually the office could rely on the help from dancers and volunteers, but Sebastian and Mercedes were on their own. In a defeated shrug, Mercedes opted that they go onto their duty at the time being. She climbed dispiritingly before the man on the way to the ceiling and assisted in pulling away the first sign in an even more disheartening effort.

"You're pretty quiet,' Sebastian said while pulling off the second banner. They were heavy and without appropriate assistance from both parties, someone could easily get hurt, if not worse.

"I just want to focus,' Mercedes lied.

Scoffing, Sebastian didn't say much else. He, instead, watched Mercedes struggle with the zip-tie on her side of the banner. Frustrated, she sighed and worked with her nails to release her side of the banner while Sebastian was already done with his. Wading over to the woman, he hovered over her silently, his presence meant to encourage her to step back and allow his help.

"I have it, Sebastian."

Raising his hands in retreat, Sebastian crossed his arms and leaned against the railing. Mercedes continued for a few minutes, unable to release the banner. "Let me help you,' Sebastian said eventually, drawing a pocket knife from his pants to cut the tricky tie.

"No, Sebastian. I've got it, _I have control_."

He looked at her with impatient eyes, eventually adding, "The longer you take on this one banner, the longer we're going to be up here. - Why won't you let me help you?"

Laughing bitterly, Mercedes finally looked up at the tall man. "What makes you think I would let you help me with anything? You of all people?"

Sebastian squinted his eyes and flipped the knife shut, shoving it back into his pocket. Crossing his arms, he took a few dense steps back and looked Mercedes over. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing,' Mercedes said, rolling her eyes. "Just… just give me the knife."

"Tell me what it meant,' he whispered.

"Sebastian, would you please just give me the knife so we can take this banner down. Please?"

He retrieved the knife from his pocket again and placed it heavily into Mercedes's hand. Walking over to the banner he lifted his side back up so that it would not fall when Mercedes got her side. She clipped the tie quickly and the two pulled the heavy canvas to their feet and made the trek to the next side of the coliseum. Still wavering in uncomfortable silence, the two said very little to each other apart from instructions about how and when to pull up a banner.

"Not talking is what was the hard part,' Sebastian said eventually.

"What?"

"When you were with Sam. - Not talking is what was the hard part _for me_. I would do anything to just hear your voice, even if it meant provoking you. This kind of reminds me of that, I feel like you're ignoring me."

"What am I supposed to say?' Mercedes asked with a small sigh, looking at Sebastian out the corner of her eye.

"I don't know, you had a day to think about it. I didn't suspect we'd end up right back where we were before I told you. You know, my confession wasn't just to boost your ego or give you some confidence after a bad break-up. It was meant to be a catalyst, a lead to something else."

Pulling her hands from the drooping banner, Mercedes moved them to her temples, looking at Sebastian in genuine shock. "You pride yourself on being this genius, I don't know why you can't get it through your head, Sebastian. Apologizing does not make everything right, you don't get life handed to you on a silver platter. We are adults, you can't play with people's emotions when you get your feelings hurt."

"I get that, but you can't keep punishing me for something I already tried to recommence."

She shook her head and laughed between a deep sigh. "I'm punishing you for acting exactly how anybody else in my situation would? God- you're selfish."

Letting go of his side of the banner, Sebastian gripped the railing with both of his hands before touching his forehead to the top rail. He chuckled dryly before pushing away and stepping back from Mercedes, "I'm selfish? I'm selfish?" His escalating voice cooled, "Do you have any clue how long I've wanted to be with you? Do you? If you say you don't, it's because you chose to ignore it. You took the first opportunity to make yourself cozy with a douche bag from the team, and I'm selfish?"

"I made it very clear I didn't know how you felt about me, Sebastian,' Mercedes replied.

Laughing very dryly again, Sebastian pulled away further. "You knew."

"I didn't,' Mercedes said, shaking her head.

"Yes, you did. You did,' Sebastian insisted, nodding his head. They alternated between the different opinions momentarily before Sebastian's voice was ascending once more and Mercedes was beginning to wipe tears from her eyes.

"So what?' She screamed finally, throwing the knife (that she had negated to give back to Sebastian) at his feet. "So what if I knew, Sebastian? I also knew that your so… so full of shit that you'd never give me the time of day. What am I supposed to make of a guy who never missed an opportunity to mention that he'd 'never sleep with a co-worker'? Or that constantly talked about his sexcapades with Tyler and Will, knowing I could hear him? What- was that some immature way of getting me to assume you wanted to be with me? Any, and I many any, affection I've ever felt for you disappeared the day I told you about Sam."

Sebastian wafted between Mercedes eyes, noticeable tears glistening. He said nothing, Mercedes eventually noticing the heaving in his chest as he pressed his hands to his hips and looked away from her. Turning around, he pressed his head against the painted concrete wall and hit his hand roughly against it. The choked sobs in his chest finally came out, only in dry lurches, a mixture of emotion and a force of avoiding such.

"Sebastian…' Mercedes ventured, stepping closer to the man with an outreached arm. He wormed away from her impending grasp and shifted out of the closed space. Passing the lone pocket knife, he climbed down from the catwalk and shut the door to concourse loudly for Mercedes to hear. She stood silently shaking for a while, eventually continuing her duty of tearing down the banners.

Sebastian instead fought back angry tears and entered the team's office once more. He slammed the door shut and hurried to his desk. He wiped away any remaining tears, instead gripping a blue stress-ball tightly and biting at his thumb. He had never expected that Mercedes felt the same for him and with the suggestion that she may have, and that he had muddled that opportunity, he could only do his best not to bang his head against the desk in choked sobs. He wasn't a crier. He never had been, but the flush of emotions prancing on his chest promised otherwise.

He suspected it was an hour or less later when the door to the office opened again and Sebastian heard Mercedes walk in. He was still in the same position: one knee propped into his seat as he sat slouched and pushed backwards. His thumb between his teeth and the other hand alternating between raps on the desk and squeezes of the fading plush ball. Mercedes stopped over at her desk to get her purse and appeared in front of Sebastian's door soon after with a soft knock.

"Sebastian,' she began, the man refusing to look over at her. Mercedes crept into his office to stand in front of his desk. She sat a key and a badge directly before him.

"I can't do this anymore,' she said, biting her lip. Sebastian looked up with sad, heavy, still-red eyes. His fingers traced over to the badge and key, he pushed them forward to her, hoping she'd pick them back up.

"No,' Mercedes assured, shaking her head. Tears welled in her eyes again, "I can't… I'm quitting. You can tell Will and Tyler, don't let them think it was on anyone else's behalf. I enjoyed my time here, but I can't do it anymore… I think you know why."

Reaching in her pocket, Mercedes pulled Sebastian's wooden-crafted knife out and placed it on the desk. She'd almost forgotten it, but was happy to rid herself of anything with ties to him. With pinky in mouth, Sebastian looked away from Mercedes and to his office's open door. He offered a generous escape and she took it without apology or regret.

* * *

 **Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review.**

 **P.S. - This is the big tell-all. If there has ever been a chapter I encourage you all to give feedback on, it's this one.  
** **This is going to be my first multi-chapter fanfic that I'm actually finishing, so I'm impressed with myself on that note. Going into further detail, I'd like to mention that I've gone back and reread this story and pinpointed my weak and strong points. I know _A LOT_ about hockey, and frankly Mercedes's job in the fanfiction is my job in real life, and a lot of this story went into the informational side rather than the reading-for-entertainment trope. I also realize that I pen a lot of internal conflict, and rather than write it and help it flourish through explanation, I give a very flat one-hit line about my character's feelings. That can definitely deter character development and provide a disconnect for the readers. I have a love/hate relationship with dialogue, and I think it's evident. Until VERY recently, I was unsure of how to use dialogue without implanting an entire useless conversation. I'm, admittedly, obsessed with word count and dialogue has always been a damage to me. I think I also need to make sure I'm describing my character's mannerisms as often as possible. A final thing- as fun as original characters are, I think I brought in WAY too many for this roleplay. There's like an ensemble cast. I'm always growing as an author and each chapter is only the ground plan for the next chapter.**

 **P.S.S. - Because this story is wrapping up, if you have any suggestions for future stories, feel free to drop them in the reviews or PM me. I'm always willing to reply and attend, and I love interacting with you guys. _Thanks for the journey, I'll see you next chapter._**


	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue**

The most critical phase in a person's life is self-repair. Making oneself anew, piecing the puzzle back together. Catalysts include birth, death, _break-ups._ Not that the latter is as detrimental as the former two, but it leaves a person in a similar turmoil as would death or life. It takes time to heal, to become better than before. The outcome is forged in steel: heartbreak, tears, loneliness, sometimes depression. These counterparts equal for a happy ending usually, a sad beginning and middle, but a kiss from a prince in the end. Is this end so complete without a kiss in the end, however?

Mercedes's passion had always been journalism. She loved to write and to form interpersonal relationships, to truly get to know someone else's thoughts and then to craft them on paper. Writing had always been a release for her. Sports journalism wasn't as riveting as traveling to middle eastern countries to break the news of distorted human rights or tolling death rates, but it was something and it paid well. She knew about hockey, and apparently just working for one sport's team qualified her for knowledge of the vast arrays of other sports. She easily got a job with the Liman Reporter's office as co-editor of the sports section. Mercedes got the opportunity to sip coffee and tell people what to do. The job, for her at least, was inexplicably boring, and even harder when she was forced to review or even write an entry relating to the Lima Legends. The team had gotten a lot of players who had barely missed the NHL draft, bringing a lot of attention to Ohio's hockey circuit. Almost every week during the summer, Mercedes found her self typing up a new article about a Canadian player who had just finished his career in the major juniors and was now looking to play again with the Legends. Though Mercedes always liked to take credit for her work, she'd often let an intern or someone else in the department pen their names for the work. She remembered that the office would cut out or print out every article about the team and place it in a scrapbook; she was sure they'd see her name printed under the article; for some reason she didn't want her name coming up in conversation. Of course they'd talked about her before, there was no way she hadn't come up in conversation, but Mercedes figured if she could prevent it from happening again, she would.

She, too, avoided any mention of Sam. Some spotlight had shown in Lima, a player transitioning from the city into the NHL was big news. Between writing about Bentley's move to New Jersey and Sam's move to Vancouver, Mercedes had to cover those stories as well. Despite a few lonely text messages back and forth between the two, a few calls, and a mailed care package (Sam had decided that living in the United States trumped the cold, Canadian tundra any day), Mercedes and Sam hadn't done much speaking. Sam was a fan of physical contact, and no matter how hard they wanted, they both knew a long-distance relationship would end in shatters. Not talking was the best way to get over each other; she thought to demonize him in her mind, make him out to be a bad guy, but she couldn't. She couldn't do it for Sebastian either, who deserved it most of all. As Sam began to fade from her imminent memories, Sebastian resurfaced.

Mercedes found herself constantly thinking about Sebastian: what was he doing? How was he feeling? Was he thinking of her? She hadn't seen him since the day she quit. She'd had a few opportunities to go to office and interview him, Will, or Tyler, but each time she sent another columnist to do the bid. She still couldn't face him. The idea of Sebastian, that smug grin, weighed heavily on her mind. Perhaps, the thought that plagued her the most was the knowledge that he had felt strongly for her all the time. Mercedes thought back to the beginning of her time with the Legends; the time in which she had held some romantic feelings for Sebastian. A gentle twinge in her stomach for a handsome man with some authority over her, completely understandable. There had been identifiable moments of warmth and relationship; glimmers of a possible future. Mercedes figured, in the sum, it was her who had botched the opportunity. She had swayed between choices and chosen Sam, and then acted surprised when Sebastian was upset. Maybe she'd imagined that his congeniality had cooled; it should have. At the end of the day, Mercedes always forgave herself for choosing who she wanted. Hedonistically, she'd made the best choice, and she wouldn't belittle herself for her time with Sam, a man who loved her deeply and was loved the same. Her sin has been her ignorance, or for better words, apathy towards Sebastian and his feelings towards her, and her unforgiveness for him doing the same.

"Hey, Mercedes,' the woman's boss began. It was fall and with many sports beginning Mercedes couldn't take the laid-off approach any longer. She was in the field more often and writing as much as possible.

"Hey,' Mercedes replied, tugging her eyes away from the computer's screen to face her superior. "What's up?"

"You worked with the Lima Legends last season, didn't you?' He leaned over her desk. "I feel like I read that on your resume."

"Yes, sir." Mercedes nodded, "I did."

"It would be pretty cool if we could get the inside scoop, you know? - Talk with some of the players, get some insight from the manager. You think you could make that happen for us?"

"I don't know…' she trailed. "I don't work there anymore for a reason."

"You're right, I'm sure… Journalism is all about building and keeping relationships, Jones. That hockey team might be the best thing to come out of Lima, and we need more coverage on them. I encourage you to patch things up with whoever you made upset over at the coliseum. I'm putting you in charge in all things Legends related, if I don't get what I want, I will be _very_ disappointed. Make me happy,' pointing at her with pointer fingers extended and thumbs up, the able man bounced away from the desk with a radiant smile before Mercedes could stop him. He talked quickly and didn't let her out of his bidding.

Mercedes smiled as the man shifted away from her desk, her countenance dampening once more when he was out of her sight. 'Disappointed' in business lingo also meant demoted; very obviously, Mercedes had no other choice but to make a stop to the next Lima Legends game. She was on good terms with everyone, but going to the coliseum would involve seeing Sebastian. She imagined he was past the charade of making things difficult for her, but Mercedes didn't want any unease getting in the way of her career. She decided she would try to mend things with Sebastian, and if things didn't go as planned, at least she'd tried.

Checking the online website, Mercedes took a glance at the employee tab. She noted that she had been replaced by a short-haired blonde; the website's html, however, hadn't changed since the last time she'd edited it. Unexpectedly, there was a game that night and with Mercedes schedule, she'd have just enough time to stop by her apartment and get ready. Waving goodbye to her coworkers, Mercedes drove home speedily and rushed into her apartment. She wanted to make it to the game beforehand so that she could get a chance to speak to Sebastian, but determining how long it would take to do her hair and how long the lines were to get into the games, Mercedes knew that it was hopeless. She would end up trying to earn his undivided attention while he latched on to the game or waiting aimlessly afterwards as he mooched and waited for the arena to empty.

Layering her hair in long, loose waves, Mercedes consented to a dark, sleeveless turtleneck and leather jacket. She wore an intertwined gold hair band, a golden watch, and tight, ripped, light wash jeans. Mercedes finished the outfit off with a sprinkle of coconut body spray and tasseled, black, leather loafers. Looking herself over in the mirror, Mercedes previewed a dashing smile and hurried out the apartment with cross body bag on arm. When she arrived to the game, she was unsurprised at how long the ticket line was, despite the puck drop occurring in less than ten minutes. The lines did, however, move quickly, and before long she was experiencing having her ticket scanned and walking through a thin metal detector. Mercedes's heart beat rapidly in her chest as she scanned the open space looking for Sebastian, who should have been there greeting guests. Before long, she saw him. His long hair was pushed off his face, a few strings hanging low over his eyebrow. His beard and mustache had grown in slightly, but not enough to rival any of the players. Sebastian was still thin, but Mercedes could make out light muscle definition in his suit. He was in the process of shaking hands and then sending a smiling customer away as Mercedes nervously crept towards him.

He turned around before she could speak, a look of bewilderment crossing his face before he placated the emotion with a generous chuckle and a giant smile. "Mercedes!' Sebastian croaked, opening his arms and pulling the small woman in for a hug. "A sight for sore eyes, how are you?" He pulled away from her, hands still placed on her shoulders. Smiling and looking her over again, he released, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Hi, Sebastian,' Mercedes peeped. "I'm good, really good, actually. I work for the city's newspaper now… so, that's been interesting. How have you been?"

"Yeah, yeah,' Sebastian ran a hand through his hair. "I saw your name in the newspaper, everyone in the office is super proud of you. _I'm proud of you_ , I think it's a step up from secretary, don't you?' He laughed, Mercedes nodding in a small smile as well. "I'm good, everything is fine. Can't complain."

"That's good, Sebastian. I'm glad… I don't want to keep you. - I was wondering if maybe we could talk after the game?"

Sebastian moved his hand to his jaw in a slow stroke, he surveyed the crowd above Mercedes's head before speaking again. "What'd you want to talk about?"

"Just,' she shrugged. "I don't know, I think there are things we still need to discuss. I feel very disheartened about the way things ended."

"I mean,' he hesitated, wafting from foot to foot. Sighing, Sebastian conceded, "We can talk. If you stay until the game is over, we can."

Mercedes smiled, "Okay, cool." She patted Sebastian on the arm and walked past him, turning around seconds later to see if he was bothered by the conversation. He had already blended back into the crowd and begun to shake hands again with plastered smile.

The Legends battled the Duluth Dukes, easily the worst team in the league. It took no time for Lima to be up 4-0 in only the first period, and Mercedes was confident that they'd end up serving a score in the double digits. She knew Sebastian was busy during the games, so she didn't worry herself about whether he'd come sit next to her during one of the periods or if she'd catch him watching her. He'd already shown the tale-tell signs of moving on, so she didn't linger. She tried to remind her quick beating heart that she wasn't ready for a relationship, most importantly, she wasn't there to win Sebastian over. At most, she was repairing a friendship. At least, she was attempting to start a business agreement. Pragmatic, maybe, but it was the most Mercedes could do to stop her foot from restlessly tapping against the concrete, her long nails from digging into her palms, and her teeth from gnawing at her lips.

By the middle of the second period they were 5-0 and Brody Weston, a very good and very cute player, had completed a hat trick, encouraging the tossing of caps and beanies from all over the stadium. Weston, as Mercedes had remembered, was one of the best players on the team last season, but after suffering an elbow injury, he had missed his shot at being called up and was now team captain. He had always been friendly, and Mercedes cheered loudly with the fans when the announcer projected Weston's three goal triumph. The game continued on very fast-paced, but the Dukes were in no way a match for the Legends, and by the time they emptied their goal at the end of the third period, they were 9-0. Terrible handling of the puck on their end led to two more goals within two minutes, and the Lima Legends won an astounding 11-0. Mercedes thought she saw Duluth's coach slap one of the players on the back of the head, but the opposing team was so quick off the ice, she couldn't be sure. The crowds cheers were drowned out by loud foghorns, Mercedes's own voice going weak with screams. She stood up and clapped brilliantly. Whilst walking away, the emcee delivered news of the upcoming and game and the Legend's current rank in the league. Mercedes waded through the crowd to the concession area of the arena. The stalls and booths stayed open momentarily after the games, Mercedes rounding towards the alcohol booth.

"We're closing out, no drinking and driving,' an older man proclaimed when he saw Mercedes near his counter.

Pulling out her wallet yet, she warned, "Trust me, I'm going to be here a while." The vested man sighed and pointed to a sign with different drinks, Mercedes choosing the cheapest and showing off her id. When handed her can, she popped open the lid quickly, thanked the man, pulled a ten dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it over. Encouraging him to keep the change, Mercedes walked slowly back to the exit. She was never much of a drinker, but the situation at hand made her nervous, the liquor calming her. A few familiar faces waved at her, but they all seemed preoccupied and Mercedes carried on. Catching a glimpse of Sebastian, he looked unoccupied, instead meandering around the doors, conversing with leaving fans. He and Mercedes made eye contact, she hoped this would be a viable reminder to him. She didn't want to be left waiting.

Mercedes eventually relaxed into the top row near the entrance, visible to anyone walking in the arena or leaving the office. Tucking her leg underneath her weight, she alternated between taking sips from the bottle and swiping through her phone. She pulled aimlessly through different branches of social media until her stomach was dull; when Mercedes finally looked up she could see custodians cleaning around the seating. Looking at the time, she saw it was almost forty minutes since the game had ended. Sebastian should have already been talking to her by then, the only time he took long to head back to the office was when there were events after games or if he was busy drinking beer with the guys downstairs. After wins, Tyler, Coach, Sebastian, Will, and the maintenance crew would all stack into the coach's office and drink beers while talking aimlessly for minutes to hours. Mercedes had only been down there once, and after plenty of unrequited compliments never ventured down again. Mercedes rolled her eyes and sunk further into her seat; unsurprisingly annoyed, she promised she'd wait only ten more minutes before leaving.

After ten minutes passed, Mercedes promised she'd only wait ten more minutes. On her second term of that promise, she finally heard footsteps from her left. She watched Sebastian enter the row from the other side, he slowly trudged through the thin gap between seats before falling heavily into the chair next to Mercedes and sitting a beer bottle on the floor.

Sebastian slithered further into his seat, pinning his legs against the chair in front of him. Mercedes was instantly reminded of her first date with Sam, despite the arena being ten times as big as the ice rink at Everley's Athletics.

"Glad you could make it,' Mercedes joked.

Sebastian ran a heavy hand through his hair before wiping his hands off on his pants. "So, you wanted to talk…"

"I wanted to apologize for how things ended between us. I'm not apologizing for everything, we both know that. I can admit that I wasn't perfectly innocent and neither were you, but I'm big enough to come back and try to make amends."

"Well, I commend you,' Sebastian shrugged.

"That's it?' Mercedes asked, looking over at Sebastian.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say."

Mercedes nodded definitely before standing and making her way to the exit. She wasn't hurt, only moved by Sebastian's disconnect. She was still mourning a lost friend whom had only been lost to her; Sebastian was not grieving at all.

"Mercedes…' Sebastian began, turning around in his seat and placing his arm on the empty chair. He looked up the woman with a dark gleam in his eye. Mercedes stopped and turned around, pulling her purse closer to her neckline.

"Yes?"

"A couple months ago,' he began. "You said something, I can't quote you, but it was along the lines, ' _any feelings I've ever felt for you…_ ' etcetera…"

Walking forward, Mercedes nodded. "I did."

"I didn't get a chance to ask you what you meant."

Sebastian, very notably, was out of his comfort zone. His fingers moved from gripping and tapping at the seat; Mercedes recalled hearing him drone on about his inexperience in girlfriends and true, developed feelings. "Then ask."

Sebastian chuckled, still refusing eye contact. "You had feelings for me?"

Mercedes nodded. "I did. - If it counts for anything,' she swallowed heavily, it was time to be honest. With herself and Sebastian; Mercedes prospected this may be the last time they spoke, at least on this level. Reaching in the gap for closure, she spoke again, "I do. I probably always will; you're a sweet reminder of what could have been. Everyone has those feelings."

"Yeah,' Sebastian hesitated, nodding. He looked up at Mercedes before turning to face forward and pushing himself off his knees. "I hate to be sentimental, but you drag it out of me,' he chuckled. Using two fingers to pick up his and Mercedes's bottles, he threw them into a close trash bin before approaching and facing the woman, Sebastian shrugged again and looked around. "I know this has to be more than two people who wanted each other at different times; I truly care for you. I've never felt this way before,' Sebastian continued, finally looking at Mercedes. "It's kind of scary."

The two gave a gentle laugh, Mercedes rubbing Sebastian's arm generously. "It's okay, scared is good. I'm scared, we've been through a lot."

"We have, haven't we?' he smiled.

"Sebastian,' Mercedes sighed. "If you want to try, we can. I'm not objecting to it, but I'm still fixing myself."

Sebastian nodded vigorously, "I know… I know you are, and I am too. - That's why I can't be with you."

Eyebrows furrowing, Mercedes spoke, "What?"

"I don't have any animosity towards you, but being with you or the lack thereof, showed me a side of myself I didn't know I had. I need some time to myself. - I didn't expect to hear from you so soon, if ever. I was going to reach out to you, but _I can_ admit this was a pleasant surprise. I'm repeating: I care for you, Mercedes. Because I do, I don't ever want to treat you like I did… I don't think we're good for each other, I'm not good for you. Not now, at least."

" _Sebastian_ …"

"So, what I'm asking, if you'd have me, is to wait. Just for a few more months, until I'm ready. Until I know that I know that I know I can be the man that you deserve."

In truth, Sebastian had prayed that he wouldn't see Mercedes so soon. That in a few months he could reintroduce himself as a reformed man. At the beginning of the game, he saw her greeting in passing, but her bid for conversation shook him. Admittedly, he'd downed a few drinks and waited as long as possible pacing corridors hoping she'd go out of impatience. He pleaded his dryness in conversation would send her away, but he, too, moved in honesty and voiced his truth.

"It's a lot, _I know_ , but it's what I want."

Mercedes waved Sebastian over, standing on her toes to give him a hug. While releasing from him warm embrace, she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and squeezed his hand on her way down. "I want you to take as long as you need. In some sense, you waited for me. I'd be some type of villainess if I didn't do the same for you. Text me when you're ready, I'm sure we both need the time."

Sebastian kept the grip on Mercedes's hand, smiling authentically. "You're a good person, Mercedes. I hate that you've suffered at the hands of self-motivated men. I think you warrant better.."

Mercedes intertwined her fingers with Sebastian's before beginning to stroll towards the exit again. "My mama always said ' _the clouds are the heaviest before the sun shines'_."

Sebastian chuckled as the two stepped out into the bright night. "You know, scientifically that's not possible, but,' he joked, Mercedes playfully shoving him. He nodded, "I agree.

"Everything beautiful has a sour ending or beginning, and this time, I think I'll have the latter."

* * *

 **The End**


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